Un sot trouve toujours un plus sot qui l'admire
by Tool of a Higher Power
Summary: It's been done before. Girl travels into movie. Girl meets newsies. Girl attracted to favourite newsie. Girl looks like boy and only attracts women... wait a minute... What? [Warning: Shameless self insertion & extreme sarcasm ahead]]
1. Descend

Un sot trouve toujours un plus sot qui l'admire – "A fool can always find a greater fool to admire him." 

(_L'Art poetique_ – [1674] Nicholas Boileau – Despreaux [1636-1711] ) 

Chapter 1 : Descend

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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Newsies or related to the Newsies. 

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The skies were surprisingly and rapidly getting darker. Much faster than it normally would in the middle of December. By the time I was let out of school to start the Christmas break, I was hit by just how dark it was. The sky at four o'clock was practically night with the exceptions of the small tinge of light blue, making it seem more navy than black. The teacher had let us out late. Instead of the usual three fifteen dismissal, he had let us out at three thirty. By then, most of the school was void of student life. 

I had rushed to my locker to grab my trench coat to protect from the cold that would no doubt plummet me on my walk home. It was certainly strange. After I had gotten my books and had hastily stuffed them into my backpack and all the usual routine of going home, I was struck by a sudden odd feeling. It wasn't that "time of the month" again but it was certainly…strange. There was a tingling in my fingers and a slight light-headedness that showed in my steps. I had practically danced and staggered my way out of school, something very hard to do with a bag laden with textbooks.

It was beautiful outside though. It had recently snowed and the sidewalks were paved with the white mushy stuff. Freshly fallen in seems. Some of it was churned up into dirty looking mush while other areas were practically untouched. I breathed in the cold air before exhaling, watching, mesmerized as my breaths came in clouds of condensation. I smiled, tucking my hands into my pockets. Mother Nature was certainly an odd one.

There were two paths that led home. One was a long way where you would have to snake through the long roads and intersections and the other was a small, secluded trail I had found last summer. It had served as a shortcut for the year following. Feeling lazy and slightly adventurous, I had decided on taking the short cut when I neared it. Perhaps I wasn't feeling too rational at the moment. I recalled the inner turmoil and battle that my head went through prior to the decision. It was certainly dangerous and since it was dark, it would certainly be more dangerous but if I were to stay out longer, it would become darker, making it equally dangerous… 

Needless to say, after that continuous battle, I no longer listened to my head for that particular period of time. Besides, I could very readily argue that my brain was very preoccupied with the cold winds that whipped by me every now and then. 

So there I was…walking down the snow-covered pathway towards my house. I guess I wasn't paying much attention to where I was going or it was too dark to see where I was going because I ended up in a place I had never seen before. Granted, it was still dark out and the snow was now falling in sheets. Deciding the next best thing, I decided to ask someone in the neighbourhood for some kind of assistance. Maybe the use of their phone or to ask for directions and by that time, I would be glad to be anywhere but outside. It was absolutely freezing!

Hesitantly, I knocked on the door of the surprisingly old fashioned but large house. It sounded like someone was having a party in there from the number of voices. All sounds of merry making however, were halted when I had knocked on the door. There was the thumping of footsteps before I heard a grumble. Then, the door swung open. I stood outside hesitantly as an old man looked at me with raised eyebrows.

"Well boy? It ain't 'ealthy ta freeze in this kinda' weatha," he told me in an accent that I couldn't place. I managed a smile before shaking off the excess snow and stepping into the semi warm house. It wasn't much warmer but at least the snow wasn't falling on my head anymore. I surveyed my surroundings through my fogged up glasses, feeling a rather odd feeling of déjà vu hitting me. Surely, I've never been in this place before but somehow, it was very familiar. I turned my attention back to the old man when he cleared his throat. 

"Can you please tell me where I am? I think I'm lost," I asked politely. He observed me with an eye as if weighing his decision to tell me or not. 

"Yer in Manhattan me boy," he finally told me. I frowned. Manhattan? There wasn't a street called Manhattan that I was aware of… 

"Are yah stayin' wid us tanoight then?" he asked, moving to the back of a dusty counter. I stared at him and voiced out my rather intelligent reply, "W-wha?" Again, the old man regarded with that eye of his, "You'se ain't from around heah are ya boy?" I was feeling somewhat peeved about his 'boy' comment. Surely, he can tell I'm female! 

"No sir. I'm not," I replied politely. At that moment, I heard whispers from around me and I took my glasses, wiping them using the edge of my t-shirt before putting them on again. I was suddenly stunned with the architecture of the place.

It was old. Definitely old. Complete with ancient looking wood that was polished to a dull shine. There were stairs leading up to a second floor as well and the source of those whispers came form there. A group of perhaps six to ten boys were observing me from the stairs. Some pointed and whispered but what struck me was their appearances. So damn familiar…I swore I had seen them somewhere before.

"Well you'se in Man'attan now boy. Best yer keep yah toes around you'se," the old man told her in a half muttered voice. I nodded politely, "Yes sir. Can you tell me how to get to Turnload street?" The man gave me a strange look, "There ain't no Turnload streets heah!" I stared at him, "Huh?" 

"I said there ain't no Turnload street heah boy! Yer must really be lost," he commented before asking, "Are yah stayin' wid us tanoight then?" I looked slightly annoyed, "What is this place anyways?" 

"Yer dun't know? This be da Newsies Lodging House," the old man told me in a rather stern manner. I stared at him, hardly believing my ears before he repeated his question again with annoyance again, "Are yah stayin' wid us tanoight?" I glanced nervously at him then at the bunch of boys. I was suddenly hit by the reason of why everything looked so familiar.

"You're Kloppman!" I exclaimed with surprise. He looked at me with a raised bushy eyebrow, "Aye, I be he." I ran my hand through my hair nervously, "No, you don't get it. You're Kloppman! Holy shit… Wait…what was that actor's name? Aah…Marc Lawrence! Shit! You're Marc Lawrence!" The old man gave me a strange look.

"Are you'se okay boy? I t'ink the snow got to yah brain. I ain't no Marc Lawrence," he told me sternly. I looked around the building again. Exactly like the set… dear lords. They couldn't be filming… after all, the DVD & video of Newsies were already out… I glanced at the bunch of boys again. I squinted and managed to pick out the familiar faces… Racetrack, Kid Blink, Mush, the most common of them all. I felt faint. I staggered over to the side and leaned against it with a dazed expression on my face. It couldn't be…could it? … … I've been dreaming and fantasizing of this very moment and here I am, not able to do a bloody thing about it. I mentally kicked myself and managed to walk over to the counter with shaky legs, "Yeah…I guess I'll stay here for now." 

Kloppman gave me a sceptical look, as if suspecting I was from some loony bin. He murmured something under his breath before he fixed his steely gaze on me again, "Are yah a newsie?" I rubbed my arm nervously, "Well…technically, no." He eyed my bulging backpack before speaking again, "Yer can't stay heah 'less you be a newsie." I considered my options. Be forever selling newspapers or chancing my way in the snow. I looked up at Kloppman again. He seemed to be challenging me. I smirked to myself. 

"Sorry, to bother you. I'll see you later then Kloppman," I replied, putting up the hood of my trench coat and threw open the door. The blizzard that was there only a few minutes ago had disappeared. In its place was a calm and serene scene. The streets was covered with snow and made the usual menacing streets into a breathless painting of Mother Nature at work. I breathed in the cold air, feeling slightly crazy. The blizzard was gone and the day was still young. I dug into my pockets and fished out the headphones to my Discman hidden in my backpack and clipped on one of the earphones to my left ear. I pressed the 'On' button and the headphones immediately blared out Blink182's 'Reckless Abandon'. I turned back to the astonished Kloppman and the group of guys… cute guys mind you, who had gathered at the door. 

"Thanks anyway!" I told them before turning around walking down the street, grinning to myself. The little voice in my head however nagged at me. _'This is the past! If you screw up the past, you might screw up the present! Turn off that damned Discman!'_ I brushed that small nagging voice away, telling myself that this is the movie verse. The movie has nothing to do with the future. 

My sneakers crunched the snow beneath me. My pants were getting wet and the edge of my trench coat was dragging in the deep snow. My socks and sneakers were wet and I was feeling cold and miserable. I managed to keep my body temperature up however because of my consistent movement. The music blaring out of the headphones got my head bobbing and my body moving. As I wandered in the snow however, I was quite aware that I couldn't survive in this kind of weather alone. I needed shelter badly. I glanced over my shoulder. The Newsies Lodging House was now a spec in the distance. A large spec but a spec nonetheless. I sighed. Maybe I was stupid to refuse his offer. I laughed to myself quietly. Of course I was stupid to refuse his offer! Staying with a bunch of newsies that would wake up practically naked. Any girl would be in heaven! I snorted, _'Damned pride.'_

As I walked through snow with no destination whatsoever, I turned off my Discman and pocketed the earphones. It was night and just in case there were some drunks about, I don't want them to hear me. Ah, the streets of New York. What fun. I observed where I was going carefully. As I walked, I passed a small red building and something caught my eye in the alleyway. I stopped, looking in with squinted eyes. They flew open when I realized what it was.

It was a body. A body of a guy who was perhaps younger than me. Taking a timid step forward, I observed him carefully. He looked to be dead but the tiny rising of his chest was evidence that he wasn't just yet. Thankful that he wasn't dead, (I am absolutely horrified with death) I closed the distance between us and knelt in front of him. 

"Hey… Hey kid! Kid? Hey! You alright?" I asked, placing a hand on his shoulder to shake him. He managed a small moan and his eyelids fluttered briefly before all signs of movement disappeared on his face. Hastily, I dropped my backpack down on the floor, vaguely hoping that the equipment in them wasn't damaged. I practically whipped off my trench coat after taking out the headphones and stuffing them into my backpack. I also took off the warm grey vest that I wore and was left with a black shirt. I laid both articles of clothing over my knees and shouldered my backpack.

"Hey…Hey kid. I need you to get up," I told him almost nervously. He didn't move but he wasn't dead yet. My mind raced as I thought of other options. He was just lying there, propped up against the red brick wall of the building and there wasn't anybody about. With a sigh and a small grunt, I pushed him off the cold brick wall and pulled him into the vest and threw my trench coat around him, tucking his arms into the sleeves of the coat. I then buttoned and tied it up snugly around his waist so that he could retain his body warmth. 

"Kid? Hey kid! C'mon now!" I told him urgently. His eyes fluttered open slightly and my heart soar, "Okay, I want you to hang on alright? Here, wrap your legs around my waist." I gathered him in my arms as best as I can and carried him like a baby. His arms went around my neck weakly and his legs went around my waist. I tucked his feet between my backpack and my back so that they were held in place. Then, I held him in place as best as I can before I headed back to the Newsies Lodging House. Pride was no longer important as my worries were placed on the small boy. Thankfully, he was small because with the backpack and his extra weight, it was difficult enough without having to wade through snow. 

"Hang on kid," I murmured as I made my way back using the path I had carved for myself. After a few minutes, I could see the Newsies Lodging House getting bigger and my excitement grew. 

"It's cold," the kid murmured as his arms tightened around my neck. His breath was icy cold. I shivered, "Hang on kid. You're almost there. Almost there." I could feel him smile, "Almost there…Light…" I felt a sudden chilling fear grab my heart and my legs seemed to have more energy as I fought through the snow. 

"C'mon kid, you can't die on me like this," I told him hastily, "Hang on! We're almost there!" There were tears running down my face. _'Oh please don't die on me…'_  He didn't reply but we were already there. Freeing one of my hands hastily, I knocked on the wooden door in a slightly maniacal fashion. 

"What is it now?" came the old man's voice from inside and the door flew open.

"Snipeshooter!" someone cried. I didn't see who for my glasses fogged up once more when I stepped into the building.

"He's got Snipeshooter! What 'appened to 'im?" someone asked as Kloppman came forward and took the small bundle away from my arms. I felt surprisingly lost and empty when he did but I was too exhausted to care.

"Found him by some alleyway, freezing his ass off," I managed to gasp out. I gave a groan and dropped my backpack on the ground. It landed with a heavy _'thud'_. I wiped my glasses free of condensation again using my shirt and put them on. Kloppman had already bundled the boy, Snipeshooter, away along with my trench coat. I on the other hand, was faced with a wall of eager newsies' faces. About three of them I recognized. Racetrack, Crutchy and the ever so famous Kid Blink. 

"He's a goil!" Blink said with surprise etched on his face. I blinked in confusion, "Urm…yeah. What did you think?" I looked down at myself. The snow that had stuck to me was now water, soaking and chilling me to the bone. However, because of that, my shirt stuck to me stubbornly showing the quite feminine figure. Namely, the chest. 

"We'se thought you'se was a boi!" Racetrack exclaimed, "You'se 'ave short 'air." I shrugged, "So?" 

"And we'se thought you'se didn't 'ave no…" Blink trailed off, gesturing to his chest before he smirked. I hope he wasn't checking me out. It's disturbing enough that I'm loosing my sanity. I flushed a deep red colour, "Yeah, I'm somewhat flat-chested. So?" 

"Didn't know you'se kin speak English neither," Crutchy said with a knowing nod, politely looking away. I frowned, "Why not?" 

"Thought you'se a Chinaman," came the reply of some newsie I didn't recognize. That made sense. I'm Asian after all and in this period of time, it was rare that Asians would know how to speak English.

"That's understandable," I replied, feeling uncomfortable under the intense look of curiosity on some of their faces. Not only was I uncomfortable under their curious gaze but I also felt as if I shouldn't be here. I don't belong. I'm not supposed to be here! I simply cannot exist under such circumstances unless I was going crazy.

"You'se stayin' fer dah noight then?" Racetrack asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had fallen. I looked somewhat hesitant. On one hand, I'm soaking wet and bloody cold. On the other, they made me uncomfortable enough as it is. I'm not much with the opposite gender unless they're one of my friends. _'Then get to know them! Be their friends!'_ came the nagging voice in my head. Perhaps I thought it was high time that I listen to that nagging little voice. I forced a smile, "I suppose. I mean, I'm not going out again in that cold when that kid is wrapped up in my coat." 

"Glad tah 'ave yah 'ere Boy," Racetrack said with a large grin on his face as he spat on his hand and held it out. There was a bunch of protests from the others at this gesture however, "Race! Yer mad? Dat ain't no way to treat goils!" I couldn't help but smirk as I spat on my own hand, clasping it tightly onto his and shook. Racetrack broke into a large grin, "Show yah to yer bunk Boy?" 

"Why do you insist on calling me Boy?" I asked, following him up the stairs. The group of boys followed almost obediently. I could practically hear his grin in his reply, "Cuz you'se make us newsies t'ink you'se was one." 

Perfectly rational reasoning if I ever heard it. 

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End Chapter 1


	2. Dreaming

Un sot trouve toujours un plus sot qui l'admire – "A fool can always find a greater fool to admire him." 

(_L'Art poetique_ – [1674] Nicholas Boileau – Despreaux [1636-1711] )

Chapter 2 : Dreaming

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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Newsies or related to the Newsies. 

==========

Racetrack led me to the side of the room while the rest of the boys got back to whatever they were doing before. Soon, the sounds of their merry making continued as if it had never been disturbed. However, every so often, my ears would catch someone mention the kid's name, Snipeshooter, and a discussion would ensue with worried looks. Most of the discussions would end up with Jack telling them not to worry. I rubbed my arms for warmth, shivering. Despite the closed windows and the number of bodies overcrowding the place, it was still really cold. That and I was soaked right through and was still wearing the damp shirt.

"'ey Boy! I'se don't have no goils' clothes," Racetrack told me, digging through a trunk that was placed by one of the bunk beds. "Good," had been my reply, "I'm not too keen on wearing them." Racetrack sniggered before pulling out an off white but clean shirt and handed it to me. He rummaged through the trunk again and pulled out a pair of pants and a white undershirt before he tossed them to me. He gestured for me to wait as he continued to rummage through the trunk. Finally, with a small squeak of victory, he pulled out black suspenders and handed them to me, "Jis' in case me pants don't fit." 

"But I'se t'ink you'se will fit in me clothes," he told me with a wink, a slight smirk gracing his features. Like I had mentioned, I'm really not all that good with guys unless they were my friends. Racetrack was an acquaintance despite my addiction to the movie. At his comment, I felt my face turn hot and I laughed nervously. He chuckled and showed me to the back to a small bathroom.

"You'se kin change in heah," he told me before leaving, closing the door behind him. 

I stood in the small bathroom for a few moments. _'I'm in Newsies. I'm IN the Newsies!'_ That thought echoed and repeated through my head. I can still hardly believe it. If it weren't for the aches and the chilling cold that I had felt, I would've think I was dreaming. _'I'm not dreaming. I'm really in the Newsies!'_ That thought was hardly entertaining. I was stuck in a movie… How did I get stuck in the movie? This couldn't be for real could it? A movie universe. Does that mean that whatever I do wouldn't necessarily affect the timeline that would lead up to my own world? 

My head spun as I thought. I really must be going insane. _'Ah well… Going insane isn't so bad I suppose. I mean, at least I'm going insane in style right?'_ Abandoning all thoughts of my current existence, I proceeded to strip out of my wet clothes. My shirt was practically dripping when I peeled it off. I hung it up carelessly on the cord of rope that was tied across the tiny bathroom. Next, came my pants and my t-shirt. Soon, I stood there, shivering in my unmentionables. 

I took Racetrack's clothes and started to dress. First came the undershirt. A little loose where the sleeves were but I didn't mind. I smiled to myself. The little Italian wasn't as scrawny as I thought. Next came the pants. I was thankful for the suspenders for it felt a little loose and I feared that it might just slide off if I wasn't too careful. Then came the shirt that I buttoned up, leaving three buttons undone at the neck. The sleeves of the shirt were loose and the cuffs hugged my wrists uncomfortably. So I unbuttoned the cuffs, leaving them to 'flap in the wind' so to speak.

After dressing, I couldn't help but lift up the shirt and bury my nose in it. Perhaps I was being weird or obsessive or something but I suppose I had to make sue this was real. I couldn't possibly be insane…or hallucinating to such a degree. No, it's not just that, I think I just want to get a whiff of what Racetrack smells like. And yes, fellow readers, I am quite aware that this probably isn't common practice. 

His shirt smelled faintly of cigarettes, odd spices and a musky animal smell that I couldn't place. I assumed it was horses. I smiled. So this is how he smells like? _'You're weird you know that?'_ I scowled at the small voice before I gathered my wet clothes and tried to wring the water out of them. Nothing. They remained damp but now, they were wrinkled. I let out a sigh before hanging them up on the rope to dry. With that, I exited the bathroom.

The room was still as crowded as before and I scanned the room for Racetrack who had been so helpful to me. I didn't feel like I had the authority or the power to go and greet the other newsies. Then, my eye caught him. He was off to one side and was waving his arm in my direction. I made my way towards him. He was seated at a small make shift table with a deck of cards alongside Blink, a newsie that I didn't recognize and another whose name I could only guess to be Specs. 

"Dis heah is Boy," Racetrack introduced, shifting aside so that I could sit down. I sat down gratefully for I was feeling as though my legs would give out under me soon. There were a chorus of heys and hellos. 

"Boy, dis heah is Blink. Dat's Snitch and dat's Dutchy," he told me, pointing to the owners of the names. Ah, so Dutchy's the one with glasses AND the blond hair. Racetrack then pointed to himself, "and I'se Racetrack." I nodded knowingly, "Yeah, I know." 

Of course, that reply was immediately regretted.

"You'se know? 'ow kin you know?" Blink asked, a suspicious look on his face. I blanched and proceeded to grope around for an answer.

"Erm… I heard about you guys?" I tried. The four of them regarded me with a cool gaze and I thought that I should elaborate, "I heard about you erm…" 

"We'se know you'se lying," Snitch suddenly said. I wrung my hands nervously, wondering what to say. Lying was never my strong points. After all, I was raised in a society where lying was look down upon. So, my so-called attempt was…pitiful.

"You'se a spy?" Dutchy asked, narrowing his eyes at me. I glanced at Racetrack for help but he merely looked at me with some sort of interest. Offering no help whatsoever. As they waited for my answer, I battled with my brain. _'If this is for real, what you tell them could alter history! The world we know it might come to an end!'_ _'Yeah! But didn't we agree that we're insane?'_ I blinked. We? I shook my head free of thoughts before I sighed and fixed with a steely gaze. 

"If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell anyone," I told them in a whispered voice. Blink shook his head, "We'se can't promise dat. What if you'se tries somethin'?" I looked at him in an exasperated manner, "What exactly could I attempt?" When I didn't receive an answer I threw my hands in the air with defeat.

"Fine. But I don't want this to be mentioned outside this lodging house okay? I…" at this, I paused before continuing, "…don't want anybody to treat me differently." I am well acquainted with X-men. People here could regard me as a witch or some kind of mutant and try to 'terminate' me or something along those lines.

"We'se won't," Racetrack told me in a reassuring manner. I took a deep breath. 

"I'm not from around here…at all. I'm really from about a hundred years into the future but…not really," I paused, wondering how I was to explain this. The looks of disbelief on their faces told me things weren't going so well. I sighed and scratched my head, "Alright. Do you know what a dimension is?" They all shook their heads. Well, typical. 

"Okay," I said, taking off my glasses and holding it up, "If I was to throw this at urm… Dutchy's head." Dutchy looked insulted. 

"There is a chance that I could hit him. There is also a chance that I would miss…right?" They nodded. 

"Let's say I hit him in the head." Again, Dutchy looked insulted.

"Where would it hit him? It could hit him on the forehead, it could hit him in the nose, or between the eyes and so on. Let's say I miss. Where would it land? It could land on the table, it could land on the floor, it could fly across the room and hit someone else." 

"What's dis gotta do wid you'se knowin' our names?" Snitch asked. I frowned, "I'm getting to that. Anyways, every thing I do could have another possibility. I suppose you can call it another dimension. Another plane of existence where all the unmade decisions urm…come true I guess." 

"So what you'se sayin' is dat you'se from anuddah woild?" Dutchy asked. I managed a small smile, glad that he had grasped the concept so quickly, "Yeah, I suppose." Noticing the looks of disbelief that was still plastered on their faces, I sighed, "Look. I'm just as shocked as you are." 

"'ow you'se know our names den?" Blink asked. I had to smile. Here comes the good part. 

"In my world, you're all from a movie," I told them. Confusion was shared between the four of them. 

"You know? Urm…motion pictures? Flicks?" There was a chorus of "Ohhh…" 

"We'se from flickers?" Racetrack asked, a note of wonder in his voice. I nodded and he let out a long whistle, leaning back against the wall with a dazed expression on his face. Blink leaned in , "We'se populah?" I nodded and he grinned, "Who'se more populah?" I laughed. That question was perhaps inevitable. 

"I believe your old friend from Brooklyn, Spot Conlon is. Next in line is your leader, Jack and then I think it's a close tie between you, Mush and Racetrack here," I told him. His expression was priceless. Racetrack however, seemed to have snapped out of his daze, "I'se got goils loikin' me?" I couldn't help but smirk, "A whole bunch of them." He went back to his dazed stupor. I glanced back to Snitch and Dutchy who looked kinda left out. 

"Oh don't look so sad. You have your fans," I told them and they seemed to brighten up slightly. 

"I'se t'ink you'se lyin'," Dutchy said. Snith nodded in agreement. I let out a sigh, "Do you want me to prove it or something?" Their heads nodded in agreement. 

"Racetrack? Where's my bag?" I asked. Racetrack pointed to the corner. In a flash, I was beside it with Snitch, Dutchy, Racetrack and Blink looking over my shoulder as I dug through the contents. I pulled out my biology textbook and showed it to them, turning to the second page where all the copyright information was. 

"Note the year," I told them. 

"It says printed in da yea' 2000!" Blink exclaimed. I nodded almost sagely, "Now do you believe me?" They still gave me sceptical looks but at least now they believe what I say. 

After giving the four of them some time to recover from their shock, I was invited to join their poker game, which I kindly declined with the excuse of not having anything to bet with. 

"You'se kin always bet wid ya clothes," Blink said with a suggestive wink. I grinned, "Sorry Blink. They're Racetrack's so I have no right betting them." Racetrack laughed, "You'se kin go ahead Boy. I don't moin'," They didn't force me into the game though so I ended up watching the game. Not surprisingly enough, Racetrack won most of the games. A few went to Dutchy and a few went to Snitch. Blink seemed to have been on a loosing streak that night. 

The merry making was brought to a screeching halt when Kloppman came up and announced that it was lights out. The boys, with a bit of grumbling, headed off to their bunk beds. Racetrack was kind enough to lead me back to a bed where his trunk had been. I looked around the room with astonishment. Almost…no, all of the boys had chosen a partner to sleep with apparently. My eyebrows raised as not-so clean thoughts entered my head. 

"Urm…Racetrack? Why are they all…?" I whispered, my question trailing off. Racetrack regarded me with a strange look, "It's da wintah. You'se gonna freeze if ya ain't gots nobody ta bunk wid." A feeling of dread entered the pits of my stomach, "Urm…do I have to bunk with someone?" Racetrack gave me that strange look again, "Yea, 'course ya do! You'se dun wanna freeze do ya?" That dread was growing as I shifted nervously.

"Urm…who am I bunking with?" I squeaked. Racetrack's grin was wider than the room, "Me." 

Oh! Look at that! The dread in the pits of my stomach is gone… I wonder why. 

I managed a nervous smile and sat down on the bed. I thanked Kloppman for already putting out the lights for the room was now encased in darkness. Nobody can see the blush that was creeping into my cheeks steadily. 

The only light shone through a broken window where the light from streetlamps reflected off the pure white snow outside. I shivered as a cold breeze blew past me. I glanced in the direction of the window, feeling sorry for whomever it was that bunked under it. Then, I sat down somewhat…stiffly.

"Boy?" came Racetrack's soft voice. The bed shifted under me. 

It's funny. I've been daydreaming about such a moment for…I don't know how long and here I was with the opportunity just lying there on my lap. 

And I was nervous.

 Horribly nervous. I nearly jumped when I felt him touch my shoulder, "You'se wanna sleep alone?" I shook the nervousness away and slid into bed with him. The thin blankets hardly gave any warmth and I suddenly saw the reasoning of why the boys bunk together. The chances of catching something more than just a mere cold was extremely high. 

I turned around and curled up against Racetrack's welcoming warm body compared to the cold. I felt his arms circle my waist and heard him whisper into my ear, "You'se alright Boy?" I paused before answering in the same whisper, "Just worrying about Snipeshooter. What will happen to him? Won't he freeze?" I felt his chest rumbled as he chuckled softly, "Kloppman ain't gonna get him ta freeze. Snipeshootah's prolly lyin' in 'is room wid da stove." 

The rest of the night was spent as a battle in my mind, yet again. The sheer ludicrousness of it all was overpowering my mind. Here I was, curled up in a very nice position mind you, with a fictional character played by an actor who goes by the name of Max Casella. Now who can honestly tell me, in my face, that if this was to happen to that person, even if she had been dreaming and fantasizing and thinking about it, that she would really believe it? 

If anything, it was embarrassing! After all, I hardly know this guy personally. I've only met him less than two hours ago and here we are! Sleeping in the same bed! Did I mention I wasn't very good with guys? I did? Good. Then you'll understand the intense blush that had taken over my face. I was blushing like a maniac and probably looking like an overripe tomato. It was getting worse by the minute. 

But the bad thing was that I was referred to as the perverted one in school. I was the one with the suggestive and perverted jokes about genitalia. I reigned as the supreme king of pervert-ness! I could discuss sex and porn with an air of casualness. Why do you think I have guy friends? Because we're all sick little perverts who would snicker at the mention of a small penis. That's why. And here I was, blushing and turning into a simpering little school girl (not literally of course) when the both of us were fully clothed and neither of us in a suggestive position or anything like that. 

My perverted soul brother would be ashamed of me. 

"Boy? You'se shoah you'se okay?" Racetrack whispered again. I gave an affirmative, "Yeah." 

Then, I felt him shift slightly. He was wrapping his half of the blanket around him. After I felt the penetrating cold breeze on my back, I followed his example as well. Soon, we were wrapped up like a cocoon, pressed snugly against one another. Despite his shortness, his head remained above mine so that his head laid on the pillow and mine, on the bed. I came face to face with his chest.

It was a distracting position. 

His arms were still around my waist and I could feel his legs pressing against mine. His toes were uncomfortably cold. Every time he breathed in, his chest would rise and hit me either in the nose or on the cheek. I was also lying uncomfortably on my right arm that felt like it was going numb and my left arm was rigid by my side. I wriggled my fingers in my right hand. Oh, good. They're still there. 

Trying not to disturb him, I tried to free my right arm of its prison. After managing with not too much difficulty, I was at a loss of what to do.  

"What's wrong?" he murmured sleepily. Apparently, Racetrack had sensed something. I could feel my face turning even redder, "I don't know what to do with my arms." His chest rumbled with silent laughter and his arms slid from my waist. He took my left arm placed it around his own waist before he slid back into his original position. My right arm was bent and my fisted hand was pressed against his chest. 

"Bettah?" he murmured. I gave a soft reply, "Yeah." 

Then, I lay there. With my raging mind, I couldn't sleep. I was still battling with myself over the situation. Was I really going crazy? That damned question kept coming up! It kept questioning my sanity! Perhaps I really was going insane if I was talking to myself.

I looked at the sleeping form of Racetrack. Well, as much as a person would see if they were perhaps a few inches from the person's chest. From the even rising of his chest and the warm breath against my neck, I concluded that he was asleep. After I practically melted and almost had an orgasm of course. All right, I admit the orgasm bit was a little exaggerated but the point is made. I was practically in heaven.

I leaned in and buried my face in his chest, closing the distance between us. If he weren't asleep, I wouldn't be so bold. 

He smelled exactly like his shirt only much more pleasant. The smell of cigars and cigar smoke was still there but it was not at all bad. It was a musky kind of smell that didn't bring tears to the eyes like cigar smoke does. No, it was more like some kind of incense. There was also that underlying smell of animals (horses) and spices I could not even begin to suggest the names of. Not only that but there was a smell that I couldn't define. I suppose it was sweat or something. Whatever it was, it suggested the male essence in the sleeping Italian and it was GOOD.

So that was how I had fallen asleep. 

Curled up against my favourite newsie. 

Drunk on his presence.  

==========

End of Chapter 2

Dreamer: Thank you for being the first reviewer! It really does wonders to my self-esteem and confidence. ^_^ 

Cerridewen: Thanks for the review! And no, this really isn't my first fanfic (they were just crap so I didn't post them up) but it is my first Newsies fanfic. Thanks again! 


	3. Dreary

Un sot trouve toujours un plus sot qui l'admire – "A fool can always find a greater fool to admire him." 

(_L'Art poetique_ – [1674] Nicholas Boileau – Despreaux [1636-1711] )

Chapter 3 : Dreary

==========

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Newsies or related to the Newsies. 

==========

The morning did not start so well. 

As portrayed in the movie, Kloppman was up before the break of dawn yelling and screaming about "Carryin' da bannah!" as he went around waking everyone up. My ears rung at his intrusion and with a groan, buried my face into the thin pillow. Then, I heard the person beside me grunt. I looked up to see Racetrack, waking up from his slumber. Rubbing my eyes, I rolled out of bed and groped for my glasses that I had placed on the dresser beside me the night before. Funny, it wasn't as awkward as I had thought.

I watched with bleary eyes as the boys practically marched out of the room into another room in the back. I assumed that there was where all the 'washing up' take place. 

"Boy, wai' fer me downstairs," Racetrack told me before he went off as well. I rolled my eyes and stood up, stretching lazily as I did so. Then, something was thrust into my arms. I looked up from the bundle to look questioningly at Kloppman. 

"You'se kin wash up in deah," he told me, pointing to the small washroom that I had changed in last night. I nodded almost shyly before scooting my ass over to the small washroom and closed the door.

I chanced a glance in the mirror… and winced. 

The messy short hair seemed crazier than usual. I shook my head and ran a hand through it in an attempt to flatten it. I scowled at my reflection. No such luck. Giving up for now, I turned my attention to the small bundle that Kloppman had given me. It was a toothbrush, a small cup and a small tube of toothpaste wrapped up in a washcloth. I raised my eyebrow. Toothbrush? Did they have toothbrushes then? What about toothpaste? 

I stared at the items in hands, trying to find some answer that may lie in my brain somewhere. I've heard of this before somewhere… I frowned. I know there were companies that mass-produced toothbrushes around 1885 but what about toothpaste? I looked sceptically at the small tube of toothpaste. _'Let's see… Toothpaste was first placed into collapsible tubes in…1892 and Colgate was the first to mass-produce toothpaste in collapsible tubes in 1896. It's 1900 now but most Americans don't care much for dental hygiene around this time…'_ I frowned again. How the heck did Kloppman get his hands on such a thing like toothpaste with such a small income? 

I answered my own question, _'It's the movie verse, DUH.'_ Ah…oh yes. How silly of me. What worried me was the fact that I actually knew when toothpastes and toothbrushes were invented. Dear Hermes. I AM going crazy.

I brushed and washed my face hastily. The toothpaste left a strange aftertaste in my mouth and the toothbrush's bristles were…not what I was used to. After smoothing my hair as best I could with water, I stepped out of the washroom and made my way downstairs. Only a few of the newsies had exited. I assumed that the others were still getting ready. I had to grin to myself as I leaned against the banister of the stairs. _'Women. Just like women. Taking their own sweet time…'_

Finally, there were more sounds of footsteps as the rest of the newsies clambered down the stairs. I greeted Racetrack and Blink then, was introduced to Mush. The four of us then headed for what would guess to be, the Distribution office. The infamous Jack Kelly joined our little troupe minutes later. 

"Oh! Boy, dis is fer ya. Kloppman told me ta give it ta ya," Racetrack told me, handing me a newsies hat that everybody else wore except for Cowboy himself of course. I took it from him with thanks and slapped it on my head, pulling down the front to shield my eyes. 

"Kloppman loiks ya!" Mush teased and I shrugged. The old man was a little strange. 

"Mush, don't tease goils," Jack told him. I rolled my eyes, "Couldn't you treat me like one of you guys?" Jack regarded me with a raised eyebrow before shrugging and chose not to pursue the matter. Instead, he started talking about something else, much to everybody else's displeasure.

"I'se gonna go see Sara' taday," he replied proudly. Blink, Racetraack and Mush groaned in unison. Jack looked at them with an almost innocent look plastered on his face, "Wat? I'se gonna go see Sara' taday. She gonna make me lunch." 

"Jack, she a'ways makes you lunch," said Mush with a snort and rolled his eyes. Jack looked slightly deflated, "Yeah, so?"

"So we'se know already! Stop tellin' us," replied Blink, adjusting his eye patch. Jack made a face, "You'se jis' jealous." Blink looked somewhat insulted, "No I ain't!" The two then proceeded to shoot back insults and comments back and forth. That was, until Racetrack stopped them.

"'Ey! Stoppit! Look deah!" Racetrack told them, pointing towards a small red brick building. I looked over. 

It was a girl but not just any girl. Beneath those long skirts was a figure that any men could have hoped for. She was shapely, busty with a head of beautiful brown curls that seemed to shine when the sun reflected off it. I managed to look at her face as she looked around, obviously waiting for someone from the way she was standing and the impatient fidgeting of her hands. She reminded me of a porcelain doll. The pale white face covered by an enormous hat and her red lips were more than enough to send boys chasing after her like dogs.

"It's Emily," said Racetrack in an almost dreamy way. I raised an eyebrow when Mush and Blink let out a sign in an almost same manner. 

"Taday's da day," said Mush, sticking out his chest, "I'se gonna ask her out." There was a collective gasp and I rolled my eyes. Mush however, strode forward in the direction of the porcelain doll while the rest of us hung back, watching this so called great feat. The minute he approached her however, I could tell that there was trouble. She was eyeing him with a suspicious look on her face and her features and expressions spoke of distaste. We watched as Mush bowed to the lady and said something. 

Whatever that something was, it must have been pretty insulting for he returned to us, face down, right cheek red with the slight imprint of the porcelain doll's hand. We laughed at the humiliating rejection that he had received. 

"Mush me boy," I said, wrapping an arm around his neck with an almost casual manner. Damn. I was getting comfortable around them already and all it took was someone to screw up with asking another girl out! They all looked at me with raised eyebrows and I smiled, "That's no way to snatch a woman's heart my friend. Shall I teach you a lesson in the arts of wooing?" Mush snorted, "You'se a goil." 

"Yeah but she doesn't know that," I replied, fixing the hat then, with a wink, I set off towards my target. As I walked however, I heard snickers behind me. Racetrack was already calling bets. 

If anything, I ignored them. They were now, a distraction. My target lies ahead. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm very interested in men and have never shown much of an interest towards the same sex. However, even back home, there are times when I would try to woo a woman just for the fun of it. Of course, the fact that none of my guy friends had ever landed much of a girl added to the humour. I was their dating guru.

"'Scuse me miss," I said politely, tipping my hat slightly. She nodded at me, lips pursed into a thin line as she observed me with hawk like eyes. I drew up my courage and my best imitation of Racetrack's accent, "I'se gots a problem miss." I then looked up at her shyly, "Could you'se…'haps 'elp me?" To add to the act, I fidgeted slightly, showing that I'm all too nervous to be talking to her. 

Her steel like exterior cracked…but just slightly, "It depends I suppose." I held out my hand, "Kin you'se 'old out ya hand?" After a minute of considering and a bit more of my shy and nervous innocent boy act, she gave it to me, palm up. 

"Okay… see. There's a riva'," I drew a line across her palm, "an' deah's dis bunny heah." I pointed to the half of her hand on one side of the 'river' closest to her thumb. 

"Yes?" her expression grew confused. Wondering why I was asking such a question perhaps.

"How'se do da bunny gits across?" I asked innocently, frowning at her palm as if in deep concentration. The girl gave me a strange look before she tried to tackle the problem with an air of casualness that's almost snobby, "The bunny could just hop across." 

"No miss," said I in a 'cute' voice, shaking my head, "Dis be a riva'! If da bunny 'ops 'cross it, it goes glup glup glup and drowns!" The girl gave a small laugh as her eyes twinkled in my direction. 

Creepy.

"What if the bunny was to find a bridge?" she asked. I shook my head, "Ain't no bridges miss." And so, for the next seconds, it continued until finally after I ran out of cute answers and she ran out of solutions. She said, in a frustrated tone, "Then tell me good sir. How did the bunny cross the river if you are so intent to prove my intelligence?" I looked up at her with big eyes and innocence painted across my face.

"I'se don't know miss. I'se jis' wanna 'old ya hand," said I. The girl blushed a beautiful shade of crimson before she retrieved her hand almost hesitantly. 

"I'm Emily. Emily Kirswan," said she in an almost shy manner. I smiled, "I'se…Mush. Mush Myers." SCORE!

 She nodded and looked at her skirts shyly before she looked up and past my shoulder. She turned back to me, smiling, "I'm sorry Mush but I have to go. My father is calling me. Perhaps we shall meet again." I nodded and stayed where I was until she was out of sight. Then, I turned and walked back towards the foursome, head high, chest out and a haughty smirk plastered across my face. 

"You'se gotta teach me 'ow ta do dat," said Blink gloomily as the laughing Racetrack took his fifty cents. I had to grin.

"Women flock to me like fruit flies to a candied apple," I paused then laughed, "it's the men that I have trouble with." Blink snorted and I returned my attention back to the crestfallen Mush, "Ah don't worry about it. I told her that I'm you so next time she comes around asking, she'll be asking for your name." 

He seemed to be cheered slightly of this fact as the five of us started walking again but as we walked, I couldn't help but feel as if he was shooting me venomous looks behind my back. I ignored it however, and focused my attention on Racetrack and Blink while Jack and Mush conversed. Kid Blink, I found, was just like one of my guy friends back home so I welcomed his company. He was a reminder that I probably haven't lost my mind if I was to remember what my past life was like. Racetrack…well Racetrack was puffing away on his cigar the entire time so I avoided him. (I can't stand the smell of cigar smoke…)

"Well Boy? We're heah," said Racetrack, dropping the used cigarette butt and crushing it into the ground with his foot. I looked up. 

It was the distribution office.

In all its glory…

"You'se gonna sell papes?" Blink asked, sticking his hands into his pockets. I paused, thinking to myself before shaking my head, "Not unless you can get me a job somewhere else." Racetrack raised an eyebrow sceptically, "some w'eah else?" I rolled my eyes, "Yes. Somewhere else. Besides, even if I did agree to sell papers today, I don't have any money." 

"I'se kin spot you some," Blink offered. I made a face, "I'm not really too keen on accepting another's charity." Blink looked offended and stalked off. I blinked. That comment wasn't…too offensive was it? 

"Ya choice," Racetrack muttered before he chased after Blink. I stood there, outside the gates of the distribution office looking confused. What had I said that had been so offensive? With a scowl, I stuck my hands into the pant pockets like Blink had done and stalked off the other way, away from the distribution centre. My mind raced as I thought furiously.

_'Stupid asses. What the hell did I say? Bah! Who needs them anyways?  I can find work by myself, stupid jackasses. Just watch me. I'll hit it off big then rub it in their faces…stupid stupid stupid…people! Just like  women. So damned sensitive…'_ As I thought, my legs suddenly grew a mind and started walking in whatever direction that they chose. A dark cloud floated above my head as I sulked. My mind came up with a barrage of insults that I would like to throw at their faces.

Soon however, I grew tired of being angry and sat myself down on the sidewalk. I observed as life passed me by and my mind strained to think. I no longer concentrated on my sanity issue or why I was here. Instead, I focused my energy on finding a job and perhaps establishing temporary quarters. After Kloppman hears about me walking away from the distribution office empty handed, he would certainly kick me out. As he had mentioned, only newsies were allowed in the boarding house. 

I scowled again. Stupid rules. 

So I sat. Thinking and brainstorming a list of my abilities and what kinds of jobs that could be made available.  I came up with nothing. Absolutely nothing. That was, until some random pedestrian mentioned Irving Hall as he walked pass with his friends.

That's it! After all, the only other people in the movie mentioned that were kind to the newsies were Davey's parents, Kloppman, Medda and Denton. I could write and read very well. Not only that but received an education that could top all of those spineless idiots. I pulled my hat down over my eyes and stood up, dusting off my pants. 

First, the Sun, then, Irving Hall. If I can't get a job as some kind of journalist or reporter, I would head for Medda and beg for her to give me some kind of job.

"Scuse me sir?" I asked. The man spun around to face me. He eyed me with a sense of distrust and suspicion, "What is it boy?" 

"Could you direct me to building of the Sun? The…urm… publishing premises for," before I could finish my sentence, I was interrupted rudely by him, "I know what the Sun is. Head down that way and turn right until you see a large building." With those words, he was off. As I watched his retreating back, I made a face, "Rude bastard." Regardless, I headed down the street, looking for Denton's office. 

However, you can imagine, that due to my poor sense of direction, I was again lost amidst the bustling crowd of people. I was roughly shoved to one side as a particularly portly gentleman pushed his way through. From the flushed cheeks and the manner in which he carried himself, he was in a hurry. Then with a start, I realized who it was. Mr. Wisely. I stared after him, transfixed and amazed. Mr. Wisely. What do you know? He grew fatter. 

"Move boy!" someone snarled and I was roughly shoved to one side again. I scowled, dusting myself off and looked up to come face to face with another familiar face. 

Oh shit.

Oscar Delancey.

What the hell? He was just…staring at me. Finally, I snapped, "What? What do you want? I moved already." 

"Who's you'se?" demanded he, "I'se nevah seen a newsie like you'se 'round heah before!" I flinched under his intense gaze and attempted to reply in a New York accent, "I'se ain't no newsie!" He sneered.

"Yeah? Notta' newsie? Whose hat you'se steal boy?" He shoved me again. This time, I tripped and fell into a not so conveniently placed alleyway. 

Oh double shit.

"Who's you'se?" sneered Delancey again. I struggled to get up but he shoved me yet again, causing me to loose my balance. I felt my elbows rub against the tough concrete, the friction causing it to in a sense, burn a hole through Racetrack's shirt. Shit, he's going to be mad. 

"Now look here!" I abandoned the attempted accent, "Have I done anything to offend you sir? No? Then kindly leave me be!" He looked at me with mild surprise before his expression changed into one that was of horrible hatred, "You'se one of dem hoity-toity boys!" I looked confused, "What? Oh…that was an insult wasn't it?" I got up to my feet in an almost drunken manner. 

"Alright. Look. I don't have time for this. Don't you want to beat me up? Cause if you're just going to beat me up, get it over with. I'm in a hurry," I snarled. I was loosing my calmness. First Kloppman woke up me up by yelling. Then, I found out Mush's hatred for my existence, Blink brush me off for some insult that I didn't make and Racetrack just left me there. Afterwards, I was shoved and pushed by Wisely and now, this stupid ape. It's enough to drive anybody mad. 

"What?" said he, obviously confused by my reaction. I scowled, "You want to hit me right? So hit me already. I don't have all day ya know? Now c'mon!" He looked at me cautiously, "Who's you'se?" 

"Boy," I replied with such simplicity and an air of casualness that I scared myself. He looked at me before he started to laugh, "Dat's it? You'se name's Boy?" I scowled, "Seems like that's what everybody is calling me despite my gender. Now kindly punch me or move out of the damned way!" 

"Despoite ya what?" he asked, a wave of confusion rushing over his face. I scowled. This was getting old really quickly.

"My gender. I'm female. A girl?" He stared at me with wide eyes, hardly believing my words. With a frustrated sigh and a deflated self-esteem, I pushed past him and dove into the crowd. 

The day just keeps getting worse doesn't it? 

==========

End of Chapter 3

AnGel: *gives you a hug* Thanks for the review! That and for adding me to your favourite's list! *glomp*

Cerridwen: Yeah, I hate it when that happens. _ Heh heh heh. I liked the bunking together concept too. *perverted wink* Thanks for reviewing!


	4. Delanceys

Un sot trouve toujours un plus sot qui l'admire – "A fool can always find a greater fool to admire him." 

(_L'Art poetique_ – [1674] Nicholas Boileau – Despreaux [1636-1711] )

Chapter 4 : Delanceys

==========

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Newsies or related to the Newsies. 

==========

"Look kid, we'se don't allow none'a you'se newsies in da buildin'," the man at the counter snapped irritably. I scowled, feeling more irritated with his manner, "Look, I just want to see Denton." He returned my scowl, "He ain't heah an' even if he was, why would he talk ta you'se?" I bit my lip. That's true… 

"Alright fine," said I then narrowed my eyes at the man, "Do you know how I can get a job as a reporter here?" The man laughed harshly, "you'se boy? You'se can't git a job heah! You'se too stoopid." I bristled at his comment but instead of flaring up and bursting in his face, I remained surprisingly calm. I pulled the cap down to shade my eyes before I fixed the man with a stare.

"Tell your superiors that someone had came by asking to work as a reporter to report on a certain, "I paused before continuing, "interesting story. If they don't want it, I'm more than happy to give it to Pullitzer. Good day to you sir and may you rot in hell for your stupidity." With those words, I was off without chancing a glance back. To tell the truth, I was too afraid of his reaction to my words.

Reporter job? No chance in hell. The whole interesting story part was…well, more or less, not true. 

I don't have crap, much less an interesting story. Besides, they don't want kids to do their reporting for them. I sighed. Medda was my last hope for a job or else I would have to work as a Newsboy… with a low pay… and bad health benefits… What the hell was I thinking? Bad health benefits? Too much time Social studies class studying the economy and government is really getting to me. 

I frowned. The prospect of dropping into the Newsies video was supposed to be fun. Instead, it resembled more like a jumble of confused situations and stereotypical thoughts. The movie, though portrayed somewhat accurately had left out many other aspects of the real world. For one, smells and the reality of it was that the alleyways and certain parts…stunk. Parts like the sight and smell of the freshly deceased, thawing in the sun. An unpleasant sight and an unpleasant odour. It would make sense though. This was reality, very much so.

Disney had just toned down that reality to a G rating. 

That doesn't mean that reality is a G rating unfortunately.

I sighed and kicked a can, suddenly in a foul mood. It doesn't look, smell, or feel like I'm insane or delusional and if anything, it made it worse.

This…was real. I could die… I could catch influenza like it was going to happen in a few years time. What if I don't get back? The First World War was just around the corner from the turn of the century after all. 

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. _'No use thinking of that now… you have to find a job!'_ I scolded myself before concentrating the task at hand… finding Irving Hall.

"Excuse me…ma'am?" I chased after a woman. She looked up at me, surprised, then disgusted. 

"What do you want boy?" she snapped, taking two steps back. I looked at her in surprise then suddenly remembered that I am of the lower class. I took off my cap in an effort to be polite and look pathetic, "Ma'am? Could you direct me to Irving Hall?" The woman glowered at me before she exploded, "Irving Hall?! Irving Hall?! Isn't that all I hear about these days! Irving Hall! Really! One looses a husband to that…that… bordello!"

"I'm…just looking for my dad," I lied. The woman glowered at me and I attempted to look pathetically sad. It worked for she softened and gave me directions, though needlessly harsh. I thanked her most sincerely and she merely sniffed before she was on her way again. I hurried away in the direction given, eager to leave the crazy woman. 

It was obvious that the woman had been to Irving Hall before for the directions she gave me were accurate and fast. I was there in less than five minutes and that's just by walking. Certainly tell you a lot about her relationship between her husband and her.

"Irving Hall," I murmured to myself as I stood outside the large theatre like building. I raised an eyebrow at the large picture of Medda that was perched on the top of the theatre before going in.

"Kid, you'se gots any money?" asked a tall and rather tough looking guy who was standing at the entrance. I groaned inwardly.

"No sir…" I murmured, hanging my head in embarrassment. 

"You'se can't git in," he said firmly, giving me a strange look that looked like something between a glare and confusion.

"I'm looking for a job," said I. He threw his back and laughed. 

Aw shit…it was going to be like the whole Denton incident all over again.

"You'se kid? You'se lookin' fer a job workin' fer Medda?" he asked with a large smirk plastered across his face. I looked at him with slight annoyance, "Yeah." He threw his head back and laughed again, "If I'se had a penny fer every time somebodies says dat ta me, I'se be rich." I frowned, "Look, can I just see Medda?"

He turned on me with a scowl on his face, "Yer ain't got no money so yer ain' goin' anywheres." My mind worked quickly to find some kind of excuse.

"This is urgent… I have a message for her from Sweden!" I told him. He looked at me skeptically and I faltered under his stern gaze, "Okay, I don't…look, can I just please see her? It's very important." My mind searched for a reason, "I cannot…tell you because it's for her ears only." 

"You'se think I'd let one o' you'se boys in?" he snapped. My head snapped up in surprise and realization. He thinks I'm male!

"Now see here, just because I dress like one doesn't mean I am one!" I exclaimed. One of his eyebrows rose and I glowered at him.

"I'm a girl!" I exclaimed and he snorted in disbelief, "You'se can't believe 'ow many times I 'eard dat too." 

I swore under my breath.

"What do I have to do to prove it to you?!" I asked in disbelief. Now his other eyebrow was up and I immediately regretted what I said for a large smirk was now plastered across his face. I took a step backwards, "Urm…good day to you sir." With those words, I scurried away. 

Now what do I do?

I was jobless…I really didn't want to work as a newsie. From what the movie portrayed, the pay was crap so working somewhere else would at least provide a higher wage…right? As I stalked away, my mind began working again. There was this one scene in the movie where Jack had led David and Les into Irving Hall through a back door. I wracked my brains, suddenly wishing that I had seen the movie more recently. 

So, I circled the large building, hoping to find the small door that the movie had portrayed. After a few minutes of searching and strange looks of passers-by, I found what I was looking for. 

Almost casually, as to avoid looking suspicious, I walked up to the door and placed my hand on the knob. I was so very nervous; I could hear my heart beating furiously against my chest. Finally, I twisted the knob and stepped inside swiftly before closing the door behind me. When I turned around, I came face to face with the same man I had met with at the front of Irving Hall. I gaped at him. _'How…how did he get here before me?!'_

He glowered at me, "How did you'se find out about the backdoor?" I desperately pulled out an excuse, "Er… The Cowboy told me?" To my surprise, he recoiled with amazement.

"You'se know dah Cowboy? Jack Kelly?" he asked. I nodded hesitantly, "Yeah…"

"Wow," the tone of the young man was now of respect, "I wish I could meet him. Medda tawks 'bout him all dah time…"

"Which brings me to my next question…can I see Medda now?" I asked impatiently. His whole attitude seemed to have changed, "Shoah, shoah, roite dis way." With that, he scrambled up the small flight of stairs and I struggled to keep up with him. Feeling that somehow, my luck had finally changed.

Thank you Jack! I will try not to make fun of you…in your face… in the future.

"Medda? Deah's someone heah ta see ya."

"I'll be right there…"

"'e knows Cowboy."

"Why, why didn't you say so? I'm coming!" 

I stood at the base of the stairs, watching as the red haired wonder stepped gracefully down the steps as her pink dress swished wonderfully as she moved. She gave me a smile as she did a small curtsey in greeting. I bowed awkwardly.

"Why hello there. You wanted to speak to me?" said she, speaking in a voice that seemed to be reserved for younger kids. I did not show my distaste when I answered, "Yes ma'am. I wanted to ask for a job?" 

"A job? Doing what?" she asked, intrigued, "I have all the help I would need around here." My mind worked quickly.

"No ma'am…I was thinking of perhaps…performing?" With that, she threw her head back and laughed jovially, "Performing? What can you do girl?" I stared at her in surprise, "You know I'm a girl?"

"Of course!" she exclaimed with a confused look on her face, "Why wouldn't I?" I grinned and hugged her, "Everybody's been thinking I was a boy and it was starting to get on my nerves!" Medda laughed, "What's your name dear?" 

"Name's Boy," I replied, twisting my face. 

"Alright, c'mon then. Let me see what you've got," she told me, dragging me up the stairs.

Minutes later, I emerged from Irving Hall feeling dazed as I stumbled down the street towards the lodging house. I got the job… I got a job at Irving Hall! With limited physical contact with people (I'm not as social as people would think) it was perfect! As was the pay (in those days) for all I was to be was the backup or assistant piano player if the old one wasn't able to make it to a performance. 

Medda had even invited me to stay with her just for some female company to which I had readily agreed. True, I really couldn't stand the redhead but I mean, despite how tempting it was to bunk with Racetrack, it's really too embarrassing for me. 

But that's beside the point. Let's get back to the narrative shall we?

Anyways, I was walking down the street with a lovely spring in my step when guess who should shove me into an alley yet again for the second time that day but…

"Hey there Boy," came the familiar cocky voice. 

"Hello Oscar," I replied civilly, picking myself up from the pavement and dusting myself off.

"'Ow do you'se knows me name?" he asked suspiciously. I blanked for a moment before I fished for a reason, "Er…I heard Jack talk about you?" The Delancey's face twisted almost hideously, "You'se know da Cowboy?" I smiled, "Of course." 

Oscar spat into the pavement, "Den I'se feel sorry for you'se." 

I raised an eyebrow, "Oh?" 

"Yeah. I'se feel sorry for you'se. You'se know why? Cuz I'se gonna pound yer face into da wall. Dat's why," he told me, cracking his knuckles. Damn, he sure holds a long grudge doesn't he? From behind him, out stepped the tall but dumber brother, Morris. I backed up one step nervously, "You wouldn't hit a girl would you?" 

"No…but we'se gonna have fun wid a goil," came Oscar's reply with a smirk plastered across his face. I took another step back and my head raced. I couldn't think of a reply.

"'ey Oscah! De boy looks loik e's gonna shit in 'is pants," laughed Morris dumbly.

Shit in my pants? Not likely. I mean, damn! I was scared _shitless_. 

"Couldn't we talk this out? Reach a compromise?" I asked nervously, backing away. See, if I was mad, I would have beat the shit out of him just for…you know, rage control or something like that but I was happy I got the job. Me being happy led to …well, me being a total and complete wuss. 

"No, we'se can't tawk it out," snorted Oscar as he advanced. 

"Argh! Screw this!" With that, I took off, running down the other end of the alleyway, hoping desperately that it doesn't come to a dead end. I could hear the footsteps of the agile Oscar and the heavy set Morris behind me. That and the drumming of my own heart beating against my ears. 

"Come back heah Boy!" yelled Oscar.

"Not a chance!" I yelled back, urging my legs to go faster. As I ran, I turned desperately into corners to throw off my pursuers. 

No such luck. 

Though, Lady Luck did finally to be on my side when I exploded out of the alleyways and found myself facing a long bridge, stretching out over the calm waters below. Without thinking that I would be crossing over to the famed Brooklyn territory, I ran across it with the footsteps of my pursuers still behind me. I chanced a glance behind me, almost tripping when I found the two brothers were still hot on my tail. 

I whipped my head around, scolding myself for looking back as my heart hammered almost painfully against my ribcage. 

At this point, the sun was slowly setting across the horizon, turning the skies a beautiful reddish orange colour but I was oblivious to the beauty of nature in the city atmosphere. The thumping of my footsteps and those of the Delancey's echoed loudly as the rest of the city got ready for the upcoming night. As I ran, I vaguely thought of jumping off the bridge and plunge into the somewhat shallow waters below just to wake me up from this dream that was fast becoming into a nightmare. Then I remembered that I was too afraid of pain to do that.

Besides, I was nearing the end of the bridge. 

My muscles screamed and groaned in pain, urging me to give in but with the images of rape going through my head, I refused to listen. I kept running until my head spun like crazy from the lack of oxygen I was taking in. The footsteps of the two brothers were still behind me though the steady pace was a faltering, a sign that they were exhausted from the chase. Still, I refuse to rest.

Then the inevitable happened.

I plummeted straight into a boy who seemed to have popped out of nowhere, causing the both of us to go tumbling forwards. There was a happy crowing from the two brothers when they saw this happen. My head was still spinning even after I had rolled to a stop.

"What do you'se think you'se doin'?!" the boy exclaimed angrily. I struggled onto my tired feet, muttered an inaudible apology towards him before I started running again. I didn't go far before I collapsed on my knees, too tired to run. 

"Crazy kid," I heard the boy mutter before he turned his attention to the approaching Delanceys.     

"Well, well, well… if it ain't da Delancey brudders," said the boy. Despite my dazed condition, I detected fear radiating off the two. 

"Spot Conlon!" exclaimed Morris and my head snapped up with surprise. Spot Conlon?

… Oh crap … I really didn't want to have to deal with Conlon any time soon. It might lead to severe misunderstandings. 

Misunderstandings that I will regret.

"What a surprise tah see you'se two heah," came the sarcastic comment of the Brooklyn leader. He whipped out the cane that was attached to his belt and hit it against one of the metal railings by the shore creating a ringing sound that echoed and bounced off everything.

"We'se jis' got lost," Oscar replied nervously, already backing away. 

"Yea…we'se…we'se…" came Morris' stuttering before his brother finished for him, "jis' gonna go back to Man'atten." With that, the two brothers turned tail and ran across the bridge like the devil himself was after them. The famed Brooklyn leader turned around, brandishing his cane as he observed me quietly before speaking, "Who's you'se?" 

I was still on my knees, panting from exhaustion of the chase. My mouth opened to answer but no sound came out. I held out a hand and gestured for him to wait until I get my breath back. He crossed his arms and looked at me impatiently. Just for his impatient-ness, I took extra time. 

Finally, I stood up and dusted myself off, "Hey. Thanks for chasing them away. Name's Boy." I stuck out my hand and he looked at it with an expression on his face as if he had smelled rancid meat. 

"What you'se doin' on my territory?" he demanded. I frowned, "I told you. I was being chased by the Delancey brothers." He squinted his eyes at me, "You'se not from around heah are ya?" I shook my head, attempting to look innocent.

"You'se best go now 'fore I'se call me boys to soak ya," he threatened. I rolled my eyes. 

Such a way to threat a lady. 

"Fine, fine," I replied and was on my way as I head back to the bridge. I wasn't sure if I was in the right frame of mind when I turned around and cried out, "By the way! Jacky boy says hi!" 

Of course, before I could witness his reaction, I was running across the bridge as fast as my exhausted legs could take me and I did not stop until I reach the lodging house. I did not go back to Medda's that night. It was dark and it was creepy. Images of Delancey rape were still floating in my head. 

I did not bunk with Racetrack that night. Snipeshooter, the little kid from yesterday night, was feeling better so he bunked with the Italian. Instead, I occupied one of the beds in the corner, away from the window and with an extra blanket from one of the empty beds. It did little to shut out the cold but at least it's not as bad considering that there were not alternate sources of heat available.

So I slept, with dreams of fame, Brooklyn and the Delanceys floating in my head. Not a pleasant combination but I suppose interesting all the same. 

==========

End of Chapter 4

Checkmate: Thanks for the review! I wuv you…@_@

Brownie/Melody: Kicking Oscar's ass? Now that's just mean! J 

Sapphy: *grin* Us perverts gotta stick together! It's a mean world out there for pervs! Especially female pervs! … I've managed to confused myself yet again. _

Angel27: Yes…vacation without computer=bad! You poor thing! Anyways, welcome back! 

Lyra Torg: Thanks! I try… ^^ and I will. 


	5. Doom?

Un sot trouve toujours un plus sot qui l'admire – "A fool can always find a greater fool to admire him." 

(_L'Art poetique_ – [1674] Nicholas Boileau – Despreaux [1636-1711] )

Chapter 5 : Doom?

==========

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Newsies or related to the Newsies. 

==========

"Boy? Boy!" came the insistent voice. I groaned and turned over…only to fall off the bed with a loud and ungraceful squawk followed by a loud '_thump!'_ I moaned as I got up into a sitting position. I whined, "What? What is it?" 

"We'se gonna go," came Racetrack's voice. I managed to lift an eyelid to look at him. He was already dressed. I rubbed my eyes slowly, "Go on without me." 

"Boy," said he in a stern tone, "you'se ran off yesterday. If Kloppman 'ears 'bout dis, e's gonna kick you out!" 

Almost immediately, a smirk replaced my sleepy expression, "Then let him kick me out! I'm moving out as of today anyways." 

"You'se what?"

"I got a job Racetrack."

"Wheah?"

"I believe you know the seductress, Medda?" I asked, smirk widening when I saw the impact it had on his face. It was simply priceless. A Kodack moment if I ever saw one. First, his eyes widened with surprise…then shock registered into his face…then disbelief. Then, his mouth opened but no sounds came out. He closed his mouth, stared at me with those large eyes, opened his mouth, and then closed it again. 

He looked like a damned goldfish.

"You'se…got a job woikin' wid Medda?" he asked slowly. I grinned, "Yep." He grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me, "Don't be lyin' ta me, Boy. Tell me…do you'se god'da job woikin' wid Medda?"

"Stop shaking me like that and yes!" He let go of me and stared at me in disbelief. 

"H-h-how?" he managed to sputter out.

"Oh c'mon…" I rolled my eyes, "I said I was going to get a job and I did." Racetrack just stood there, shaking his head in disbelief.

"But…wid Medda?!" exclaimed he…attracting the attention of everyone else that was around.

"What's dis 'bout Medda?" asked Kid Blink who suddenly seemed to have teleported to my side with his arm draped annoyingly over my shoulder, "C'mon Boy. You'se kin tell me." 

"She's god'da job woikin' wid Medda," Racetrack told him to which Blink replied with a low whistle and chuckled. "You'se woikin' wid Medda? Could you'se try an' ged'da job fer me too?" I made a face in his direction before trying to push his arm off… Despite whatever you had seen in the movie, Blinkie ole boy wasn't as light as he seemed in the dance sequence. His arm was practically crushing me.

"I don't know about getting you a job there Blink. There's this one crazy guy who worships Jack who would annoy the hell out of you," said I with a grin on my face. Glad that he wasn't so sore from yesterday…whatever it was that I did. 

"You'se gonna be leavin' da lodghin' 'ouse Boy?" asked Crutchy who had managed to hobble over when Racetrack and exclaimed Medda's name. 

"Yeah…today. I'll be staying with Medda herself!" I laughed. Suddenly I found myself being pushed against Blink's chest with his arms around my neck. He had a smile on his face and as he brought his face down to my ear, I could hear my heartbeat thumping away. 

Give me a break! I may view him as a brother…but I'm still a teenager. I still have my hormones to think about…

"So Boy," he whispered huskily into my ear, "you'se gonna be performin'?" I snapped out of my daze. I stared at him with a raised eyebrow and an amused expression on my face, "If you let me go, I'll see what I can do in getting you free admission." 

He quickly released his crushing hold around my neck with a laugh, "Only kiddin' Boy! Only kiddin'!" There was a chorus of laughter before the rest of the Manhattan newsies headed out to work. I grabbed my backpack and slung it over my shoulder. My trench coat, having long dried by one of the old fashioned Victorian stoves was folded up neatly and placed in my backpack. 

After a few more minutes, Racetrack, Blink, Mush and I were walking down the street with my backpack thumping against my back while trying to avoid the puddles of water created by the melted snow. I waited for them as they got their papers at the distribution office before we walked off together, heading towards Irving Hall. 

Again, cut me some slack. I have never been to New York and my sense of direction is…a little screwed up. 

"'eah we are!" announced Blink, tilting his head to get a glimpse of the huge picture of Medda. He grinned before he returned his attention to us, "Well, I'll see you'se later. Me an' Mush got some papes to sell!" 

Racetrack and I bid him a farewell before the creepy Jack worshipper from yesterday greeted us. He was looking at Racetrack with a funny look on his face and to my surprise; Race almost seems to be shying away from. 

"Take the back door Boy," he told me. I nodded and quickly bustled off with Racetrack at my heels.

"You know him?" I asked in an attempt to strike up a conversation. 

"You'se kin say dat," was his reply as he pulled out half a cigar and proceeded to light it. I shook my head, "You know, you really shouldn't smoke. It does damage to your lungs." He snorted in disbelief but I didn't push the matter any further when we reach the back door. I pushed it open almost cautiously. The both of us entered, looking around feeling unsure of what to do before Racetrack suggested we go up the stairs and try and find her. I readily agreed seeing that standing around was rather pointless. 

Half way up the stairs however, Medda bustled out to greet us flanked by the guy at the front door. 

"Racetrack!" she exclaimed in greeting before catching him in a hug. I had to stifle a snicker when I saw that the many ruffles of Medda's dress seemed to be almost choking him. He managed a squeaky greeting before Medda turned to me with a large smile.

"C'mon then Boy! I'll show you to your room. Racetrack? Don't you have work to do?" At once, Racetrack seemed to stand at attention, "Yes Medda! I…I'se best be goin' now." He did an awkward bow before he grabbed his newspapers and hustled out of there with a tinge of red on his face. I bit my lip again to stop myself from bursting into laughter. Medda on the other hand was giggling to herself in a delightful manner behind her fan.

"Boy, this is Bounce," she introduced me. I gave him a slight nod in greeting, as did he. Medda returned her attention to me again as she gestured for me to hurry up, "C'mon then! We have plenty to do!"

"Dat all you'se 'ave?" asked Bounce, eyeing my backpack. I threw him a cautious look, "Yes." To my relief, he shrugged in response and started after Medda. I followed.

After a few minutes of climbing up flights of stairs, I found myself standing in a narrow hallway. I glanced at the many doors with interest. Medda strolled down the hallway until she stopped at the end where a window looked out over the streets. I gripped the straps of my backpack tightly, unsure of what to expect. Slowly, she turned and slid a key into the door on the left. The door swung open with hardly a noise. It had obviously been oiled and judging by the room, it had been freshly cleaned.

"This is your room from now on," she said, handing me the key with a smile. I took it with a somewhat hesitant manner. The room was small. Very small but I suppose beggars can't be choosers. A small cot lay in the corner and a small wooden dresser stood beside it. I dropped my backpack on the cot and looked around, feeling curiously accomplished.

"If you have any questions, you can ask Bounce here. I'll leave you alone to unpack. Bounce will tell you about your job," she told me with a smile before she bustled off leaving Bounce and I alone in an uncomfortable silence.

I cleared my throat, "So…"

"Yes…"

"…. Er…"

"You'se really a goil?" came the question. I bristled, "What?" I turned to look at Bounce. "Asked if you'se really a goil. Don't look loik no goil to me…"

"As much as I would love to prove you wrong," said I sarcastically, "I think I would rather not." He smirked in my direction, "Guess we would see 'bout dat. You'se gotta be downstairs at two." With that, and an almost casual wave of his hand, he left and closed the door behind him. 

I stood there, staring at the closed door and wondered of this _Bounce's_ intentions. Shaking my head, I proceeded to "unpack" even though there was precious little to do so. All I did was take the clothes and trench coat that I was wearing when I first came here and tucked them away in the top drawer of the small dresser. My backpack with all the textbooks and binders were stuffed under the steel frame of the cot. I smiled to myself and glanced at the faded clock on the dresser. It was still early but since there really isn't anything else to do, I thought maybe I could just go find me some newsies. There's nothing to do until after lunch anyways.  

So, I made my way downstairs and out. Soon, I was back on the streets looking around in a clueless manner. 

Ah yes…I forgot about my _somewhat_ unreliable sense of direction.

I glanced around before deciding to wander around the streets, taking good care of the path I took since I need to return to Irving Hall, to find some company. Or more specifically, Blink and Racetrack. I didn't feel too comfortable with anybody else. For example, Mush seems to hate me because of that one instance with what's her name…Elizabeth? So he constantly avoids me, or at least try to. Blink was his best friend after all. Every time he saw me with Blink, he would shoot the nastiest look in my direction when he thought I wasn't looking.

"Ex-try! Ex-try! Giant creature found in sewers! Read all about it!" came a familiar hawking voice. I glanced over my shoulder and found Jack and… was that Davey? 

"Boy!" Jack had had spotted me and was waving ecstatically in my direction. I waved back and trotted over, "Hey Jack." 

"Boy, I'se wants you'se to meet Davey," he introduced. Davey grinned in my direction before spitting in his hand and held it to shake mine. Before I could do anything, Jack immediately protested to Davey's behaviour.

"Dat's now 'ow you'se treat a goil!" Jack scolded his companion. Davey glanced at me with a confused look on his face. I rolled my eyes at Jack's behaviour, spat on my own hand and shook his firmly before withdrawing it and wiping the spit on my…well, Racetrack's pants. 

"You're a girl?" he asked, still looking confused. I sighed, "Yes." He stared at me openly. Apparently, this was hilarious to Jacky Boy…

Which reminds me… what ever happened to Spot yesterday night? I bit back a smirk. He must have been confused. Standing on that bridge like that, staring after me, not knowing how I knew his nickname to Jack Kelly here. 

"So where are you from Boy?" David asked with a friendly smile. By this time, I had fallen in step with the pair and we were making our way through the dirty snow piled streets.

"Up north." 

"Really? How far up north?" was his question. I paused, uncertain of my answer. Canada has long been established as a country… Fine, maybe not long but they were established as a country by 1899… but what sort of impact does it have on New York?

I have no idea… It didn't seem like something to risk anyways so I simply shrugged my shoulders and came up with a simple reply…or lie. Either way, it gets the point across.

"I don't know. I travel a lot. Don't usually pay attention to the places I stop." 

"I see…" was David's answer. He was now regarding me suspiciously and I had to sigh. What is with these people? Always looking at me like I'm going to strike out at them and attack them or something. Do I look like I can commit tentacle rape or something? 

"Where did you learn English?" he asked. I blinked, "Huh?" 

"You're a Chinaman…well," he laughed, "Chinaman's daughter right? Where did you learn English?" I bit my lip.

"I…had a private tutor?" I attempted. He took the bait with an air of satisfaction and I couldn't help but sigh in relief. He shot me another suspicious look but he attempted to make conversation once more as Jack continued to hawk the headlines beside us. 

"Have you been to Brooklyn?" he asked. I bit my lip. Yesterday night all over again and the two words, Delancey rape kept echoing in my head.

"Once," I answered truthfully, "But it was a mistake if anything. I was being chased." 

"Chased? Chased by who?" asked Jack. I bit the inside of my cheek, "Just…some random guys." I wasn't about to tell them that the Delancey's were trying to catch me to rape me! Do you know how embarrassing that is? 

Jack frowned in my direction, "Did they hurt you?" I rolled my eyes, "No." He grinned, "Didja meet Spot Conlon?" I coloured and he crowed in triumph even though I really have no idea why he would… It was an embarrassing topic to discuss. Who could say that they met the Brooklyn newsies leader by bowling over them then dash off but not before taunting and confusing him? 

Nobody, that's who.

Nobody except me…

Lucky ole me… 

Whoop-dee-doo.

"Spot's a ladies man," Jack said with a grin when he noted the colouring of my cheeks. I made a face, "Not interested Jack. Not interested."

"Jacky boy!" 

Speak of the devil…

I swallowed thickly. The short Brooklyn leader didn't seem much of an opponent…at first. I mean, really, if you were going to go up against an almost scrawny looking boy who's looks shorter than you and one whom you can put your elbows up against his shoulders as a stand… 

Well you get what I mean…. He's short.

Of course, you have to be as realistic and as rational as possible. You have to count the facts. This little bastard has probably got an army ready to do his every bidding. Me against a thousand scrawny newsboys…well, you don't have to be good at math to count the odds. 

"Is something wrong?" asked David with concern. I shook my head stiffly and let out a nervous laugh, "No…not at all. Why would there be anything wrong?" 

"'Ey Spot!" Jack greeted, waving in Conlon's direction. No doubt, he's walking over here right now. I looked around frantically for some kind of escape from this fast becoming awkward situation. 

Too late.

"'ey Jacky boy… who's dat?" 

"Dat's Boy. Boy? Dis be Spot Conlon, leadah of da Brooklyn Newsies." I snapped out of my fear-induced daze. Especially when Spot spoke up. 

"Boy? Ain't you'se de idiot who gots chased into my territory by de Delancey brudders?" he demanded. Something snapped and I whirled around to face him, ready to bark back insults. Nobody calls me an idiot!

Then I looked into his eyes…and stopped abruptly. 

…. 

Yeah… I'm screwed. 

==========

End of Chapter 5

Sapphy: ^^ I guess I should apologize for the boys trying to pass off as girls comment… Naaaaaaw! Wow…people really don't like the Delanceys huh? O_O…

Cerridewen: Thanks!

Ember: Yes…the bed sharing thing seems …tickle people's pleasure buds… Okay, ew, that sounded wrong.

Harley: XD I apologize for giving you the image of Delancey rape that early in the morning. Here, I'll try and make it up to you by giving you urm… urm… er… virtual cookies? 

Erisnymph: Hee…I'm a mature writer. Thanks for your review! I'll try to be equally witty and amusing in future chapters. XD  

AnGel27: Thanks for your review! *smooch*

Arianne/Pencil: Thanks for your review! Yes…hype- ness gooood. 


	6. David

Un sot trouve toujours un plus sot qui l'admire – "A fool can always find a greater fool to admire him." 

(_L'Art poetique_ – [1674] Nicholas Boileau – Despreaux [1636-1711] )

Chapter 6 : David

==========

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Newsies or related to the Newsies. 

==========

"Delancey brudders?" echoed Jack with a frown on his face. I shifted nervously, "Er…"

"You'se got chased by de Delancey brudders?" asked Jack. I mumbled my answer, "Yeah…" Jack shook his head, "I'se won't let you go ne'wheah without a…" He trailed off then glanced at David as if seeking for help.

"Escort?" suggested David. Jack nodded in agreement, "Yeah! An escort." I rolled my eyes, "It's not such a big deal!"

"It is when you'se come runnin' into my territory," snapped Spot. Jack shot the Brooklyn leader an especially nasty look and I moaned silently. I knew what he was going to say…

"Spot, dat ain't no way to treat a goil," Jack scolded him.

My left eye twitched. 

"Jack! Stop telling people that!" I snapped irritably.

"Dat's a goil?" Spot asked, frowning as he peered at me like I was some kind of freak. I massaged my temples, "Yes, yes…" My ears picked up smothered laughing from David who was standing behind me. 

"It's not funny," I muttered to no one in particular. 

"I'se still want an apology," Spot spoke up, crossing his arms across is chest with a look of determination and unusual fierceness in his eyes. I glared at him, "No." 

"What?" he echoed in a soft and dangerous voice. I hastily stuffed away the fear that bubbled in the pits of my stomach and glowered at him, "Look, I'm sorry if the Delanceys chased me into your territory but really, there wasn't much I could do about it. There's no need for me to apologize." 

"Urm…Boy?" David whispered to me. I brushed him away and narrowed my eyes at the Brooklyn leader with new resolve. I'm not backing down from this scrawny little shrimp, Brooklyn leader or not. I still have my pride!

…Okay, whatever that is _left_ of my pride. 

Spot Conlon regarded me coolly with his eyes in such a calm yet dangerous manner that I had to flinch. He smiled, no… he smirked, and then, taking a step forward, he leaned in and looked at me. I felt myself freeze. 

…Damn he was a sexy bastard. Short and arrogant, but definitely sexy.

I winced at my own thoughts.

"You'se know who I am?" asked he, peering at me. I felt myself getting irritated. 

Sexy or not, this boy needs a lesson in manners.

"Yes I know who you are. Jack introduced us you idiot," I snapped and immediately regretted the '_idiot_' remark. He snapped back in such a way that I thought the action would send him rocketing to the other side of the street.

Sadly, he didin't.

Instead, he glared at me and I felt myself go cold, "Ain't nobody calls Spot Conlon an idiot. Goil or not, I'se gonna teach you'se a lesson in mannahs." I stared at him, a little shocked at hearing my thoughts voiced…at me. I couldn't help it. I started to laugh. 

"What's so funny?" Conlon demanded. I snickered uncontrollably, opened my mouth to speak before another wave of hysterics hit me. I clung onto David's shoulder for support as I laughed with tears running down my cheeks with hilarity.

Finally, with a sigh and blushing slightly when I realized just how stupid, or insane, I must have looked, I grinned, "Urm…inside joke."

The three stared at me like I had just escaped from a mental health institute. I stared back. Finally, Conlon scowled, messing up that pretty face of his, "I'se dun have time fer dis. I'se goin' back ta Brooklyn." 

"Wait!" Jack exclaimed, earning looks from the three of us. 

"What, Jacky boy?" Aaaww…isn't that cute? He called him Jacky boy! Jack doesn't belong with Sarah, he belongs with Conlon. They would make such a cute couple. I bit my lip to stop myself from smirking at the thought of it. If voiced, I would not hear the end of it from either.

"Deah's gonna be a party at Medda's tomorrow noite," he told him with a grin. Conlon grinned and winked back, "Got'cha." With that, he spit shook with Jack, tipped his hat slightly in acknowledgement of the amazing Walking Mouth, shot me an especially venomous glare that rivalled Mush's and was off, disappearing around one of the corners. 

I scowled, "That boy has issues." Jack gave me a disapproving look before shaking his head and attempting to make conversation.

"I hears you'se got a job woikin' fer Medda," said he with raised eyebrows. David looked at me with interest. I moaned, "I swear, this job is going to haunt me." David smiled at me with sympathy.

"I'se jis askin'," Jack protested.

"Yes, yes, I got a job working for Medda, which reminds me, what time is it?"

"It's… eleven thoity and I'se getting' hungry. 'bout you Davey?" Jack asked, glancing at his ex-selling partner. 

"I think it's time for lunch. Are you going to join us?" he asked me. I dug into my left pocket and felt the loose coins that Medda had given me as an advance on my payment. I smiled, "Sure. I'm starved."

Which isn't far from the truth. I haven't eaten in… in… Dear lords, I can't remember. It is DEFINITELY time to get some grub.

"I'se know the poifect place," Jack said with a twinkle in his eyes.

Well duh, Tibby's but I didn't say that lest he got suspicious on my ass. Instead, I smiled and with a flourish of my hands, I exclaimed, "Lead on, o great one!"

"Mif ish goodf!" said I between bites. Jack laughed while David just grinned in my direction before going back to his own edibles. Hmm…was he really this shy? Or was he just being polite?

"When was de last time you'se ate?" Jack asked, in jest of course. I didn't know so I answered him all too seriously, "I can't remember…" His goofy grin quickly became a frown and he quickly ordered another bowl of soup.

"You'se gonna eat until you'se full goil," he told me in a tone reserved for little kids. I would have scowled at him and told him to stop acting like my mom but I was already on my third bowl of soup and forth piece of bread. 

"Fanks," I managed to mumble out before I dug into the forth bowl of soup. I wasn't a big eater…normally, so after the sixth bowl, I was full and paid for my half of the bill, leaving a few cents for tip. 

"You'se paid extra," Jack told me when we had left. I merely shrugged and didn't answer him. Maybe the concept of tip was lost with the Newsies…which would make sense since they would have to scrounge up as much money as possible in order to survive…

"It's one. What do you want to do?" asked David. 

"I need to get back to Irving Hall…" I mumbled then looked around, confused before sighing, "Would you mind if you …urm… showed me to the place? I'm still lost." 

"Can't. I'se gotta go see Sarah," Jack answered gleefully. At the mentioning of his sister's name, I noticed David gave his friend a look that plainly said, 'Hurt-her-and-I-will-kill-you'. 

"I'll take you there," David volunteered, returning his attention to me. I smiled, "That would be most appreciated."

Behind me, Jack snorted, "I'se leave you'se alone. I'se godda date to go to." With that, he winked in our direction and practically strutted off. I shook my head with amusement, "I cannot believe the size of that guy's ego." David laughed, "It's not that big."

I grinned in reply, "I know. Conlon's bigger." 

In any case, the two of us started towards Irving Hall. Despite how dorky he sounded and acted in the movie, he's actually a really interesting guy. I felt quite sorry for him considering that he was practically the only guy paired with Denton. Talk about the bad end of the deal… If anything, there should be another girl for him to chase after.  

"So you really got a job with Medda huh?" David asked. I sighed mentally. Really, I don't see what's the big deal.

'_Despite the fact that Medda was not only well endowed but quite popular with the Newsies themselves…_' said the little voice in my head.

"Yes."

"As what?" 

"Part time piano player and most of the time one of the stage hands," was my reply. At least, I'm quite certain that's what I'm doing. 

"You can play the piano?" he asked in awe. I chewed on my lip, "Yeah…"

"That's great!" he exclaimed, "I don't know anybody this young that could play the piano. Do you play well?" 

I laughed, "Well enough to land the job I suppose." 

Needless to say, I enjoyed David's company. He was intelligent. He was quick to have a grasp on new things being introduced and he served quite well in arguments and debates. Even though I'm younger than him by I think, a couple of years, he sounded like he respected me in the same manner I respected him. 

Which was really quite a pleasant contrast towards the attitudes of the Newsies I had met so far. 

"Here we are!" he announced. I looked up and sure enough, there was the familiar building itself. 

"Are you going to be…around?" I asked, rather embarrassed for asking such a question. He looked at me with a strange look on his face and I quickly corrected myself, "You know…around? I want to talk to you more… I mean…really, none of the Newsies offer much of a conversation." 

He smiled and nodded in understanding, "Sure. I'll be around." With that, I thanked him profusely for taking me back to Irving Hall before we exchanged farewells and I started towards the backdoor. 

What I found however froze me in my tracks.

Oscar Delancey. 

I groaned at my luck…of lack thereof. 

Yet…he seemed occupied. I squinted and made out another form pinned against the wall. I ducked behind a conveniently placed bench and peered at the two. What was he doing? What were _they_ doing? I strained my ears to catch some of the conversation but I was still too far away to hear anything. I sucked in a deep breath before I sprinted forward silently and ducked in the small space where the backdoor was. I pressed myself into the shadows then strained my ears again.

To my absolute horror, my ears caught the sounds of muffled female screams. I squinted into the darkness again and made out another figure beside Oscar who seemed to be the one pinning the girl down. Recognition of the unintelligent grunts filled my head. 

Damn.

Oscar _and_ Morris?! 

If anything, I'm guessing that they were raping the poor girl they had. I swallowed thickly…

_'Just like they had tried…'_ my thoughts drifted to yesterday night and I shuddered. I chewed on my lip again. I had to save the poor thing somehow… one way or another. Swallowing the fear and a bit of my common sense and intelligence as well, I stepped out of the shadows and called towards them.

"Hey! What are you doing?" I watched in horror filled fascination as Morris withdrew in surprise, releasing the sobbing girl to the floor. Oscar turned slowly around to look at whomever it was who had interfered with his fun.

We stared at each other. Despite the dimness of the rather large alleyway, I saw recognition flashed through his eyes. He sneered in my direction.

"Boy," he greeted. Despite myself, I had to grin.

"Oscar," I greeted in a similar fashion. Then all was quiet save for the girl's quiet sobbing and the sounds of the street just beyond this alleyway.

"Oscar?" came Morris's questioning tone.

"What are you doing to her?" I asked with poorly disguised fear. Oscar took one look behind him to look at the girl.

Good, he wasn't concentrating on me right now…

Not realizing just how vulnerable I would be, I launched myself forward in an attempt to perhaps pin him down when he was caught off guard and allow the girl time to quickly get away.

Of course, I left out a few vital information that I would need if this were to be a success.

One, any one of them were strong enough to over power me and flick me off like a bug.

Two, the girl would probably be too shaken to move.

Three, there was still Morris to worry about.

And last but not least, I have absolutely no clue on how to fight other than what I had learned in PE class a year back.

So needless to say, I found myself pinned against the wall in almost the same position as the girl had been before except Oscar sported a few bruises of which I was rather proud of to land and he was breathing hard. I had to grin. Those wrestling and self-defence classes in Physical Education really helped. Even if I am still defeated. At least he's tired out so theoretically, he wouldn't want to move until he gets his second wind.

So while he had me pinned up against the wall and pausing to catch his breath, I glanced at the girl. She looked up at me with tear stained eyes. 

"Go. Run away," I mouthed. Her eyes widened and I saw her glance nervously at Morris who was currently fascinated by his brother's out of breath-ness

"Door," I mouthed again, jerking a thumb in the direction of the backdoor of Irving Hall. She nodded mutely before she dashed off. Luckily, Morris didn't bother. Maybe he was too dumb to notice but whatever it was, his concentration stayed on his brother and…well, me.

"I'se don't want to hoit you," came Oscar's soft voice. I blinked in surprise then winced when he applied pressure on my wrists that were pinned above my head.

'_Liar,_' I thought to myself. 

"I'se…really…don't want to hoit you…" he murmured, then leaned down…

_HOLY SHIT!_

This is certainly not happening! Still…I could feel his breath, hot against my neck. 

I squeezed my eyes shut…_This is not happening, this is not happening. I'm dreaming…just dreaming. Wake up!_

No such luck.

I glared at his neck before I reached some sort of improv escape plan.

What did I do? 

Well, it's really quite ingenious really. Rather proud of the _technique_ myself.

I leaned forward and bit down hard on an exposed shoulder. After taking some pleasure in his loud howl of pain, I jerked my wrists free of his grasp. Finally, for the last phase of the escape plan, my knee flew up and I kneed him in the…well, you know.

In any case, he collapsed on the floor with pain while his brother, Morris guffawed and laughed at his brother's predicament. As for myself, I swiftly dashed towards the backdoor, wrenched it open and slammed it shut behind me. It doesn't matter if they came in. It was Bounce's and some of the other men working there to keep them out. I turned my attention to the trembling girl with a tired sigh.

"A-a-a-a-a-are you a-a-a-alright?" she stuttered then hiccupped. Poor thing. She must be still shaken up from the Delancey's encounter. I don't blame her.

"I'm fine. Just fine," I replied with a smile despite the fact that my heart rate was going about forty miles an hour and I could still smell Oscar on me. 

I'm really going to need a bath after today is all over.

"Do…do you work here?" she asked. I nodded and she smiled, "M-m-me too!" 

I stared at her.

"Huh?"

"I-I-I-I'se one of d-d-de d-d-dancers," she replied. I nodded slowly then my eyes widened in understanding. Of course! Medda probably wasn't the _only_ entertainer around this hall. It would get pretty boring after all. That would explain all the other rooms upstairs. 

"So w-w-what d-d-do you do?" she asked. I blinked then shrugged, "One of the stage hands and back up piano player person." She looked at me in awe, "I'se n-n-nevah known a boy your age who kin p-p-p-play da p-p-p-piano…"

Again with the Boy stuff but I merely sighed mentally and let it go. Let her think what she wants.

"In any case, I'll be seeing you around… I guess. I have to find Bounce." I bade her a quick farewell and before she answer me, I was gone. I really did not want to hang around her very often. After all, she thought I was a boy and no doubt, judging from the look in her eyes, she's _very_ interested. 

I mentally sighed, _'Always women…never men.'_ I glanced behind me and saw that she was following me shyly, hiding behind curtains and such.

I sighed again.

_'I'm doomed to live the life of a lesbian…'_

==========

End Chapter 6

Sapphy: Aheheh… Now that you mentioned it, I have a sudden urge to go out and buy a goldfish just to be able to name it Racetrack. J 

Brownie/Melody: Hoped that answered your question on why Spot is angry. Besides, Spot is always pissy when it comes to his territory and such.

Ember: Magically fall in love with Spot? O_O… Dear lords, I hope not.

erisnymph: Ya know, I'm starting to become attached to Bounce… Which is rather creepy because I've created him to be repellent… As for Damon's eyes… well, if you read a lot of the Newsies fanfics, they keep talking about his eyes… Just following the tradition. *wink* Alright, no, that's not the purpose. XD As for your _'I don't think you could be anything but witty and amusing._' Well…I'll hold you to that when I begin to slip. ;) 

Pyromaniacal Llama: *bows* I accept your applause with lots of kisses and blessings! Or at least, something along those lines. *chuckle snort* Angry short man… Damn. I have to use that somewhere… You wouldn't mind would you? J 

Pencil3: *grin* but hyper-ness is good! In any case, yes… More Racetrack… er… next chapter? O_O;; __


	7. Drama

Un sot trouve toujours un plus sot qui l'admire – "A fool can always find a greater fool to admire him." 

(_L'Art poetique_ – [1674] Nicholas Boileau – Despreaux [1636-1711] )

Chapter 7 : Drama

==========

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Newsies or related to the Newsies. 

==========

I sighed, leaning against a broomstick that I was _assigned_ to. Working at Irving Hall was not as glamorous as I had thought. No, nothing like that. Instead, I found it rather…annoying to say the least. I was to be the "_official_" piano player's understudy or some other crap like that. What did that meant? It meant that unless the old git dies, I'm never going to perform on stage with applause and all that. 

I sighed again, sweeping the floors with an obvious lack of interest. I've only been working for three hours and this job was getting to be asinine… fast. It was almost worse than Delancey rape. 

I shuddered at the thought.

_Almost_.

Then, my eyes caught something. I looked through the open curtains with interest then brightened up considerably.

The piano! 

I quickly went over, dragging the broomstick behind me. Looking around and seeing that nobody was there and considering that there were no audience right now, I took a seat behind it on the piano bench. I lifted the lid that covered the keys and stared at it adoringly. Setting the broomstick down and praying that I wouldn't get in trouble for this, I placed my right hand over the keys and played a small scale.

I paused, straining my ears as if expecting to hear some cry of outrage. 

Nothing.

My grin widened as I place my left hand on the keys as well and played a longer scale before I stopped and listened again. 

Still nothing. 

With an almost insane giggle, I folded my hands together, stretched, and loosened them before placing them on the piano keys again. Then, I wracked my brains for a song to play. The one that came to mind first was a song composed by Joe Hisaishi whose works are most well known in the anime movies by Hiyao Miyazaki. This particular song that now flowed my fingertips almost naturally was the song from Spirited Away, Inochi no Namae, or The Name of Life. 

Halfway in the middle of my playing however, I was suddenly aware that somebody was watching me. Startled, I stopped playing immediately and stood up, grabbing my _assigned_ broomstick in the process.

Standing by the doorway was none other than Medda herself. She smiled in my direction before taking a step into the room, "That was beautiful! I didn't know you could play the piano that well." She leaned over so that we were looking at each other at an eye-to-eye level. Shut up, I'm short. 

"That's quite a talent for someone at such a young age," she continued, looking impressed. I smiled. But of course!

"Tell you what," she straightened up and sat down on the piano bench to which I followed suit, "I can't fire Mr. Hoitans but I'll let you play accompaniment for my opening act tomorrow night. Can you read music?"

"But of course!" I exclaimed, overjoyed with the prospect of not having to sweep floors.

"Excellent!" she exclaimed with a smile, popping up into a standing position once again, "Now you wait here Boy, I'll just run to Mr. Hoitans and get you the music. Then we can rehearse so that you would be prepared for tomorrow night." With those words, she disappeared with a ruffle of pink skirts. I was grinning from ear to ear. 

The opening act! I'm going to be the first to perform, along with Medda of course, but that's beside the point. I'm going to be in the opening act! 

Soon, Medda came back and thrust a bunch of papers into my arms. I glanced at the music and couldn't believe my luck. The music wasn't all that hard to learn. After making me sight-read it and telling me I have promise of great things in my future, she shooed me off and told me to go get some dinner. Not after she handed me more coins, to which I was glad to take from her. Besides, I've earned this. 

With my awesome floor sweeping techniques of course. 

In any case, it was with a cheerful bounce in my step that I exited Irving Hall, accompanied by none other than Jack Kelly himself who, in my annoyance, took up the vacant spot of my big brother. 

"Jack," I sighed, "is this truly necessary?"

"Yes." And that was all he said as he led me towards Tibby's. I rolled my eyes.

"Will you keep up?" he asked. I muttered under my breath darkly before taking two extra steps for his one stride.

"'Ey! Boy! Jack! Wait up!" called a familiar voice from behind us. I thanked the heavens when Jack stopped and turned around to look over his shoulder. As for me, I paused to catch my breath. 

"Race! You'se comin'? We'se goin' to Tibby's fer dinnah!" Jack greeted his pal. Racetrack looked sullen, "Naw, lost me money at da tracks…"

A sudden idea hit me.

"Why don't you come anyways? I'll treat you," I offered with a grin. He looked at me skeptically and I rolled my eyes and sighed again, "Just think of it as a thank you for letting me borrow your shirt. How's that?" 

He grinned, "I'se kin live wid dat." 

"C'mon den. Let's go," Jack urged the two us then the three of us were on our way again to Tibby's.

It was approximately an hour later that the three of us sat in a corner booth at Tibby's, nursing our large stomachs. Racetrack groaned, "I'se ain't nevah been dis full…" Then, his face twisted and he let out a loud belch that left Jack and I breathless with laughter. A few of the girls sitting at another booth were staring at Race and giving him strange looks. This only escalated the hilarity of the scene that both Jack and I were witnessing. When Racetrack realized he had an audience, a female audience nonetheless, his face brightened up substantially when their female attention was turned onto him and avoided all eye contact with any of us. 

"Aw c'mon Race, it's not that bad," I giggled almost mindlessly, trying to suppress my already bubbling laughter. 

"You'se done?" he asked gloomily.

"Yea, we'se done," Jack announced. The two of us quickly paid for dinner before Racetrack quickly led us outside.

"Are you heading back to the boarding house?" I asked as we began to walk down the streets of Manhattan.

"Yea," answered Racetrack, "you'se comin' wid us?"

"Urm…" I paused in my decision. It sounded very tempting. No doubt I would be bunking with him again…right? I bit my lip. Then again, I have to worry about Medda back at Irving Hall. Was she expecting me to be back? 

"Sorry," I replied apologetically, "I need to get back to Irving Hall." 

"Race, you'se betta' walk 'er back," Jack told him with a frown on his face. 

"Why?"

"Las' time, she almost got raped by de Delancey brudders."

"Delancey brudders?" repeated Racetrack, turning his head to face him with wide eyes. I sighed.

"Yes, yes… I hope that Jack would stop mentioning it though."

"I'se jis' thinkin' of yer safety Boy!" he defended himself. I laughed, "Sure Jack." He looked insulted.

"Jis' walk her back Race. I'se gotta meet wid Sarah." At the mentioning of her name, his eyes went glassy and took an almost dreamlike state. Racetrack muttered in disgust, "Again wid Sarah." He turned to me, "He neva stops yer know. It's getting' annoyin'." 

I laughed, "I can tell." 

"Well, we'se betta' git a movin' on den," he told me and we started our way back to Irving Hall.

The walk back was spent rather pleasantly, despite my extreme nervousness. The conversation was mostly one sided with Racetrack doing all the talking while I listened to him, as if being lured into a trap by his rich tenor voice. 

I was suffering from bliss and it was all too sweet. 

He entertained me with his wonderfully humorous anecdotes, interspersed with my laughter. Halfway there however, the two of us fell into a comfortable silence as we walked. It was refreshing… Compared to what? I do not know, but it was still refreshing. 

"We're 'ere…" he finally announced, stopping in front of Irving Hall. I smiled and let out a small sigh, "Yep…"

"Look," he said, suddenly nervous. My interested peaked slightly, "Yea?"

"You'se…stay outta trouble kay' kid?"

I blinked in surprise.

"Huh?"

"You'se stay outta trouble. Jack usually ain't wrong 'bout what them Delanceys gonna do so you'se be careful," he paused and frowned, "watch out fer yerself." I nodded, a little stunned and confused by his statement.

But as he turned to leave, I regained my mind, "Racetrack! Wait!" 

He stopped in mid step and looked over his shoulder.

I frowned…

"Who you calling kid?" 

He smiled before shrugging and walking off. 

I sighed with a goofy smile lighting my face. Ah, Racetrack, Racetrack, Racetrack…

You cute Italian shorty you…

With the goofy smile still plastered on my face, I returned to Irving Hall and into my given room. I didn't even bother to change. Instead, I flopped onto the bed and blew the lights out. 

As I pulled the blankets over my shivering body, I sighed wistfully. Maybe I should have taken up Racetrack's offer in going back to the boarding house for tonight… It would be warm for one thing… The second? Well, rather obvious don't you think? 

The next morning, I woke up with a crick in my back to which I blame the poor mattress with well, poor support but as they say, beggars can't be choosers. After hastily making myself somewhat presentable, I stumbled down the stairs. At the bottom, I was greeted by Bounce who grinned toothily at me. We exchanged good mornings before he was on his way while I went in search of Medda and breakfast, depending on what I came across first of course. 

 I did came across breakfast first, a mere apple, looking rather shrunken, was offered to me by I politely declined. It was winter after all and fruits were hard to come by. Besides, after yesterday's dinner, I told myself that that apple should go to someone who would probably need it. After loosing my appetite, I headed for the room where the piano had been yesterday and there was where I found Medda, waiting impatiently for me to start rehearsing with her for tonight's show.

And so we did. We rehearsed from ten o'clock in the morning to three in the afternoon until she was glad with the results and shooed me off, telling me to get ready myself and be back at six. I was only all too happy to leave to nurse my tired fingers, aching head and growling stomach. I quickly slipped out of Irving Hall and made a beeline for Tibby's. I did get lost, though a few nice strangers advice later, I found myself standing at the front of this modest establishment and invited myself inside. 

As the door jingled shut behind me, I glanced around the crowded restaurant in search of a familiar face or an empty table. 

"Boy! Boy!" somebody called. I looked around, a confused expression plastered on my face.

"Boy! Over here!" somebody waved at me in the corner and I struggled my way across the crowded room to reach there. 

It was Blink.

"Hey Boy!" he greeted, scooting over to make room for me. Mush gave me a cold look and I sighed mentally. Best if I avoid this…

"Urm… no thanks. I'm just looking for someone," I told him with a hesitant smile. He brightened up, "Oh? Who?" 

"Erm…" I couldn't think of anybody. Well, I did. I thought of Racetrack but there wasn't any point in bringing that up now is there?

"Yer lyin' Boy. C'mon. Sit!" he urged me, grabbing my arm and pulling me down to sit by him. Mush made a rude noise in his soup and I winced but Blink continued on, oblivious of the tension between us.

"So 'ow's Medda? Huh? Huh? Huh?" he asked, winking and elbowing me in the side with good humour. Despite the tension between Mush and I, I had to laugh and move away from him, "Stop that Blink or I'll sit with Mush." 

"I'd rather you'se sit deah," Mush muttered darkly.

Blink caught that.

He frowned, "What's wrong Mush?" The boy didn't answer him as he drank his soup. 

"Is it Elizabeth?" I asked, looking at him. He looked up and we stared at each other. Even though he didn't answer, I knew it was true. With a sigh, I ran a hand through my hair and waved for one of the waiters. I ordered a coffee and a sandwich before turning to the situation at hand.

"What happened?" I asked in a serious tone. He shot me a glare but I stared back, willing myself not to flinch or wince as he glowered at me.

Finally, he sighed and gave in, "I'se met wid her heah…" Blink and I leaned forward unintentionally as we waited for him to continue.

"She's ask fer Mush an' when I'se told 'er I'se was Mush, she slapped me!" he exclaimed. I stared at him and raised an eyebrow, "That's it?" He glared at me.

"No, dat ain't all," he snapped before continuing, "she's started askin' fer you Boy and when I told her you'se a goil, she screamed at me, slapped me den stormed out." 

Mush let out a sigh as he slump against the table. Blink let out a low whistle, "You'se havin' 'orrible luck wid dis Elizabeth." Mush snorted without lifting his head.

"Alright, alright. Look. How about I talk to her for you?" I offered. His head lifted up and glared at me, "No." I shrugged, moving away slightly as a plate of sandwiches were placed in front of me. I proceeded to devour it, careless with my table manners. The conversation was abandoned for the time being as I ate. Mush drank his soup and Blink hummed tunelessly as he sat with one arm propping up his head, staring out the window with faded curtains and fingerprint-smudged glass.

My coffee arrived shortly after. As I savoured the last bite, I reached for the coffee to drown it down. 

"Aaaah…" I sighed blissfully, "That's good."

Blink grinned, "'course."

Mush snorted and rolled his eyes. With a sigh, I turned my attention onto the muscularly built newsie. Mmm…he's cute too. Hey, maybe I should explore my options.

"Look Mush. I don't blame you for hating me for ruining your chances with Elizabeth but you can't change the past. So what if Elizabeth doesn't want you? Show her what she's missing out on." 

He looked at me skeptically. I grinned and shrugged, "Of course, I suppose my advice isn't even worth a cent because I've never actually been in a relationship before so I wouldn't know. Though, I guess the real advice would to be yourself. No corny pick-up lines or anything like that. Just get her a few flowers and flatter her. Who knows? Maybe she'll give you one more chance." 

I sipped at my coffee as I waited for my words to enter his head. When it did, he merely looked down at the table, avoiding all eye contact. Feeling that I had somehow done something wrong again, I finished off the coffee and stood up to leave. After paying for my lunch with what little coins that I have left from yesterday night, I bid the two newsies a haste farewell before I hustled back to Irving Hall. 

My finding of the Hall had somewhat improved and I felt proud of my accomplishment even though I did have to stop a few strangers to ask for the way. Mostly women, no men. I didn't want to get beat up thank you very much which was fine because if you flash a little manners in the woman's direction, they would greet you with a smile and tell you what you need to know. To which, no doubt, I was extremely grateful for.

In any case, I arrived back at Irving Hall with an hour to spare but Medda insisted on getting me a bath drawn and wanting me to clean up for the performance tonight. 

"We cannot have you looking all dirty and grubby like that when you play tonight," she told me, shoving a pile of clothes into my hands and into a small bathroom before closing the door behind her. I stood there, dazed before I decided that the faster I get this done, the faster I would get it over with. I quickly stripped off my clothes, took a quick bath in the frigid water (it _is_ winter after all) and proceeded to dress hastily. 

I was still provided with men's clothing and I was grateful for her consideration but perhaps Medda was worried about the hype that could be come if people found out that a girl was playing piano in one of the sleazy places… 

In any case, after making myself "presentable", I made my way towards the backstage area where I was greeted by Medda herself. 

"Did you eat yet?" she asked as she bustled around the many rooms, getting ready for her performance. I nodded numbly as I stood there, watching her and her other showgirls get themselves ready. Make-up was caked on, layer after layer, and brightly coloured costumes, some with dyed ostrich plumage, littered around the room. It was enough to make a blind man see again. 

"Here's your music," she told me, shoving the papers into my hands before bustling off. She came a few moments later, shoving more music into my arms, "Those are for Hoitans. Give those to him and sit on the piano bench." I nodded numbly before I went off in search of my "superior". 

I found the old man sitting in the back of Irving Hall making conversation with one of the bartenders.

"…whippersnapper, cheatin' an old man loik me outta a job," he was saying, slurring his words together. It was obvious he was drunk. 

"Damn idiot prolly don't even know 'ow ter play de piano," said he, slumping against the table. The bartender noticed me and gave me a sorry look, as if begging me to get him out of there. He was kind of cute in a way… 

Wait…what? I quickly shook my head to clear it before I smiled at him.

"Mr. Hoitans?" I asked in a strained polite manner. The old man looked up and glowered at me," What? What do you'se want boy?" 

"Medda asked me to give you your music for tonight," I told him, handing him the music. He mumbled and murmured something under his breath before accepting the bundle and slumped back into his seat. The bartender sighed dramatically before he continued to clean the cups and was forced to listen to the crazy drunk and old pianist.

I bit a grin. Honestly, I felt sorry for him. I know how long winded the Hoitans could be.

"Boy! There yer are!" Bounce greeted me, waving in my direction. I made my way towards him through the room that was slowly being filled up by loud, raucous guests.

"Yeah?" 

"You'se needed at the piano! We'se gonna lift it up soon!" he hissed to me, giving me a push in the direction of the piano. I took off my hat and swept it in a mock bow in his direction, "Yes, your majesty." He scowled with good humour, "Jis' git!" 

I hurried to the stage area with my music clutched against my chest. I entered the room in which the piano was and sat down hastily, spreading my music out and getting myself into a position so that I'm ready to play. 

The small room itself had been fixed with a strangely complex pulley system. If someone was to crank the handle on the far side of the room, the floor on which the piano stands would rise up through an opening in the stage. Ingenious.

In any case, through the opening on the stage, which someone had considerately removed the wooden cover, I saw Medda stroll out in one of her many costumes. This one was pink, purple and decorated with enormous dyed pink ostrich plumes. I thought she looked ridiculous but apparently, judging from the roar of her audience, they didn't think so. 

Bounce waved to me from the far side and gave me the thumbs up sign. I grinned and waved back before getting into position. Medda was already speaking, welcoming her guests, and soon…I will have to play.

"…and gentleman?" I heard the cue, "this one is for you." Bounce was already cranking the pulley and the room started to rise. I placed my fingers on the keys…took a deep breath…

And started playing. 

==========

End of Chapter 7

Sapphy: But Spot Conlon in third person is so…. CONLON. Haha, methinks you need to cut back on the sugar. 

erisnymph: Aheheh… Oscar Delancey was a hottie in the movie… with his hat on. Without, he looks like dork! It's the accessories my friend! I'm sorry, but Morris is just creepy. With all the beautiful newsies about, you really have to wonder don't you? Are the ages they proclaim to be _really_ real? Maybe they're just boys… or worse, crossdressing girls! It can happen. XD 

Brownie/Melody: Maybe I could be evil and put Dave with Denton! Bwahahahha… Oh the evilness! Can you feel it? Being a nun is not very fun. No wild parties or anything like that. XD It's almost boring. 


	8. Drowning

Un sot trouve toujours un plus sot qui l'admire – "A fool can always find a greater fool to admire him."

(_L'Art__ poetique_ – [1674] Nicholas Boileau – Despreaux [1636-1711] )

.

Chapter 8: Drowning

==========

Dislcaimer: I do not own any of the Newsies or related to the Newsies

==========

Medda's voice lingered on the last chord as I played the last few notes, trailing off sweetly at the end, wincing as I did so. No offense to Medda or anything. She has a great singing voice…just…off key with the piano…for the whole song. (She was a little sharp) Despite this setback, her performance was received by loud cheers from her male audience. Rather obvious they weren't here to hear her sing. As she bowed and did her thing, I quickly gathered up my music and tottered off the stage. Barely noticed.

Barely noticed except for the somewhat sober Hoitans who pushed pass me coming up onto the stage. I winced, clutching my injured shoulder and made a face behind the old drunk's back. The old man settled down on the piano, where he waited for Medda's signal to play. And when she did, her male audience were immediately entranced, taking in her every word. I shook my head and headed for the bar.

"Hey," I greeted the barkeep. He smiled at me, "Hello. Can I get you something?" I checked my pockets before laughing, "Nope. Looks like I'm broke."

"C'mon, how about on me? For a job well done?" he offered, taking up a towel to clean another cup. I raised an eyebrow, suspicious.

"No joke. Just a drink. Besides, you did a good job," he told me with a smile. I laughed nervously, "Alright…but I don't really drink. Besides, it wasn't that good of a job."

"How about a sarsaparilla?" he offered. Before I can answer, he poured me a cup of the brown fizzy liquid and handed it to me with a comical expression, "I'm not going to take no for an answer."

I laughed before accepting the glass and raised it, "well…bottoms up." It tasted a lot like Pepsi.

"So what's your name anyways?" he asked, putting the clean glass down and leaned over the counter to take the weight of his feet. I glimpsed a small portion of his well defined chest through the unbuttoned shirt collar and gulped the sarsaparilla. Which led to me choking and coughing as the fizz in the liquid burned my nose.

"Ow…" I complained, clutching my burning nose. He laughed, "that's a strange name. Ow?"

"They call me Boy," I retorted back.

"And they call me Rich," was he reply.

I laughed, "Rich? You look pretty gawddamn poor to me." He laughed in reply, "Yeah, I did not know what my parents were thinking when they named me."

I grinned. I was starting to enjoy his company… his oh…so… sexy company. No… Bad! Bad! I'm attracted to Racetrack… Raaaaaacetrack. I glanced down his shirt again.

…

Well… no harm in looking, right?

"Boy!" a familiar voice broke through my fantasies, er… I mean, thoughts. Yes, thoughts. I broke my extremely good view and turned to see who called my name.

"Racetrack!" I greeted the Italian Newsie with enthusiasm. He grinned, clamping a hand down on my shoulder, "C'mon! The rest of the gang is already here!" After that, he proceeded to drag me off, away from the bar. I waved and looked apologetic in the Rich's direction then held up the glass of sarsaparilla in thanks. He smiled and raised his eyebrows and that was all I saw before I was swallowed by the crowd, guided by Racetrack who was pulling on my arm.

Soon however, we arrived to a table near the back corner where not only did we get a good view of Medda's performance but we weren't in anybody's view… which meant the ruckus goes pretty much unnoticed by the other patrons.

"'Ey! It's Boy!" Jack greeted me, followed by a perhaps rather unnecessary slap on the back. I winced and managed a, "Hi Jack." He pushed forward a rather pretty looking girl who looked very familiar.

"Boy, I'd like ya to meet Sarah," he proclaimed proudly, "Sarah? Dis is Boy." I greeted her with a grin and a handshake. Of course! The fabled Sarah. She certainly matured wonderfully. Unlike the movie counterpart in the real world, her hair was a little longer and she had a little more… chest.

"Jack's won't shut up about you," I told her, "It's rather quite annoying but it's nice to finally meet the infamous Sarah." She blushed at the compliment and smiled, "Thank you Boy. Is that your real name?" I shook my head and laughed, "Nope. If it was, I think I'll come up with something more original than that but since everybody's calling me by that name, you might as well." She smiled and nodded, "It's nice to meet you too Boy." After that, she returned to her seat beside the Cowboy.

I wondered if Jack told her I was a girl…

"Boy!" came a familiar sneer from behind me. I scowled, turning to greet the speaker.

"Conlon." The sight that greeted me made me sick to my stomach. There was the mighty Brooklyn Newsie himself, lounging in the back and surrounded by air headed bimbos, giggling and touching him. I rolled my eyes.

He's not THAT great.

"Care ta' join us?" he asked, a smirk gracing his features. I snorted before replying in a sickeningly sweet voice, "No thank you. I'd rather not steal your women away from you." He scowled. Hah! That got his attention.

"You'se makin' fun a' me Boy?" he demanded, standing up, resting his hand on his oh-so-famous cane. The bimbos around him gasped and tittered in worry among themselves.

"Boy…back down," Racetrack whispered to me urgently in my right ear. Now don't get me wrong. Under normal circumstances, I would've complied and turned into a puddle of goo if Racetrack was to whisper urgently in my ear… his warm breath against my cheek… his arms around me… and his body firmly –

I mentally slapped myself. CONCENTRATE YOU IDIOT!

"Yea, I'm making fun of you Conlon," I snapped. We glared at each other.

"You'se wanna take this outside?" he asked, narrowing his eyes in my direction. Okay, this was perhaps where I should have stopped pestering the midget boy from Brooklyn and I had three very good reasons why I should have. One, I did not know how to fight. Two, picking a fight with the most feared Newsie wasn't exactly smart… and three, I did not know how to fight.

But I'm guessing that cute bartender slipped a little something in my drink for my reply was not one that followed common sense.

"You wanna go? Let's go," I replied, glaring at him. He snorted, taking a sip from his cup, "I'se not gonna waste my time on a stupid lil goil."

"I'm not a stupid little girl."

"Watcha say?"  
"I said I'm not a stupid little girl. If anything, I'm much smarter than you my little midget friend," I snarled. He scowled, "I'se ain't yer friend goil." I snorted, "My name's Boy, not Girl. Thus, proving your stupidity in remembering names." I noted he did not rebut against my midget comment.

The table was silent as attention fixed on the both of us.

"Yer know what?" he snarled, "I'se don't care 'bout what you'se say 'bout me because you'se ain't got nothin'. You'se ain't got nobody likin' you. You'se know why? 'Cause you'se got dat smartass mouth a' yers dat needs ta' be shut!"

"At least this smartass mouth is connected to a brain!" I snarled back.

"Yer think you'se so smart. If you'se so smart, why dun't yer back down from the famous Spot Conlon," he asked, glaring at me and stood up. As he did so, his cronies from Brooklyn stood up as well, some of them cracking knuckles and few looking apologetic in my direction. I took a hesitant step back but held my place when I saw a flicker of victory flashed in his eyes. I scowled and seconds later, the sarsaparilla found its way onto his face and shirt.

"What, Conlon? Too weak and stupid to fight your own fights?" I asked.

"No," he replied with a glare as his female companions proceeded to try and dry him, "too smart ta' waste my energy on you'se but I'se gotta keep my reputation. I'se don't pick a foight wid goils." He sat down and it was over.

Over in the sense that Racetrack had dragged me away from the scene and now led me outside where I paced and fumed. I wonder what it would feel like to punch his pretty little face in…

"Boy… Boy!" he shook me.

"What?!" I snapped, annoyed.

"That ain't smart. You'se coulda be killed!" he exclaimed. I scowled, "I don't see why everybody respects him. He's nothing but a little midget." Racetrack frowned, "Careful what you say Boy. 'e's dangerous that one is. He ain't called da leadah of Brooklyn fer nothin'."

"I know, I know," I muttered under my breath.

"You'se gonna be okay?"

"Yeah… Just give me a few minutes."

"I'se gonna be insoide. 'E may be the most feared Newsie in Man'atten but that don't mean he can't share 'is goils." With a silly grin, Racetrack raced back inside. I muttered a scalding comment about air headed bimbos under my breath then resumed pacing.

Well! It was official. Racetrack, though concerned for my well-being, saw nothing in me except for a friend. And judging from the way he raced back inside to share in Conlon's so called treasures, a friend who needed little attention. I muttered an oath under my breath.

"Hey Boy, you'se plannin' on stayin' dea' fer the whole noite?" a voice questioned from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and smiled.

"Hey Blinky."

"Blinky?" questioned the eye patch wearing Newsie with a grin, "That's new." He handed me a new glass of sarsaparilla and I muttered my thanks.

"Don't like Conlon huh?" he asked. I scowled again. He laughed, "Guess not." His laughing demeanor suddenly vanished as he draped an arm around my shoulder to whisper in my ear, "Best stay outta his way. Conlon's dangerous and have 'is loyal followers. They moight see yer as a threat to dea' leadah and attack without orders. Know what I mean?"

I rolled my eyes, "Yes. I get it. He's dangerous. Stay away. Blah, blah, blah." Kid Blink gave me a disapproving look.

"What? Besides, why are you all so concerned?" I muttered darkly.

"We'se don't want you'se tah be killed," he replied in a serious manner then proceeded to give me a fierce hug and disappeared back into the building. I stood standing where I was.

I was choking and sputtering on the sip of sarsaparilla I had taken.

I clutched my nose painfully. Fizzy liquid…should NEVER go up the nose.

But as I stood outside in the cold chilly wind I felt a shiver of fear travel down my spine. Blinky's words echoed through my head. '_We'se__ don't want you'se tah be killed…_' Which would lead to the belief that Conlon had killed one of the Newsies before… which would be a great reason why the others fear him so. Or…it could be he possessed the strength to be able to kill a man… which would also be another great reason why the others fear him so. To hell with it. I'm not going near that psycho Newsie either way. He's an arrogant pompous little jerk who needs a good, hard, spanking.

Hmm…now there's a thought…

NO! NO, NO, NO, NO!

What the hell was wrong with me? Then I grinned… I would've paid to see that happen. Conlon getting scolded or lectured on. Just to see him writhe beneath the embarrassment and shame. Unorthodox? Yes, but I'm sure it gets the job done. Besides, it would also provide for a great deal of hilarity and entertainment. I snickered at the thought and drained the cup before heading back inside.

Only to bump into the girl I saved from the clutches of the Delancey brothers.

I groaned.

"Oh! Oh…I …I erm… I didn't… I didn't see you there," she stammered as her face flushed hotly. I stared at her, "Er…huh. It's alright." With that, I hastily walked off. That girl was really freaking me out.

"Oh! Wait!" she exclaimed and managed to grab a hold of my sleeve. I stared at her, "Yes?" then glanced at my shirt sleeve. She quickly apologized and let go. She wrung her hands in front of her nervously. My ears heard giggling in the background and I felt dread creeping up against me. She had her friends along with her.

Oh…crap.

"I…I…erm… I… I was j-j-just wondering… if… urm…" she stammered, "if…if…"

"If?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. She turned an even darker shade of red, "If… you might… urm… want to get…urm… s-s-something to eat… urm… tomorrow?" I stared at her blankly.

'_I can't believe she's asking me out… CAN'T SHE TELL I'm a GIRL?! Damn… do I look that good as a guy?_' was the direction of my thoughts.

"I'm…sorry. I'm actually kind of busy tomorrow," I replied with a forced smile and turned to leave but was again stopped by her hand which had yet again, caught my sleeve.

I need to find less baggy shirts…

"W-w-w-what about now?"

"It's…rather late to be going out to get something to eat isn't it?" Oh my gawd… she was persistent. Of all the women… why did she have to be the persistent one?

"W-w-what about the day after t-t-tomorrow?"

"Look…I… I don't know how to say this… but I'm not interested in a relationship," I replied. Hey, it had some truth to it.

"It doesn't have to be a relationship!" she exclaimed then grabbed me in a hug. I stiffened. What the hell is wrong with this girl? I tried to pry her off me and when I finally succeeded I saw that she was crying.

Great…now I feel guilty.

I grabbed her by the shoulders and sighed, "Look… I… I'm… I'm not interested in girls." She stared at me wide eyed then quickly withdrew. With a fearful look in my direction she rushed towards her friends. I had to smile ruefully at the comment she shouted back.

"FREAK!"

Oh look, no stammering that time. I sighed and rubbed my temples before making my way back to the bartender.

"Back so soon?" he asked with a grin. I grunted and placed the empty cup in front of him. He raised an eyebrow, "More sarsaparilla?"

I shook my head, "Give me something stronger." He raised an eyebrow and I shrugged, "You can take it out of my paycheck." He laughed and in a few minutes, a foamy mug of beer appeared in front of me. I observed the liquid carefully.

So this was how people drowned their troubles. A wave of misery swept me.

"You alright Boy?"

"Yeah, yeah…" I muttered and took my first sip of alcohol. It tasted nasty and burned my throat as it went down but I forced myself to drink it. I made a face. Rich laughed, "First time drinker?" I managed a rueful smile, "You know it."

"I remember my first time," he replied with a far away look in his eyes. He laughed, "Horrible, horrible experience."

"I could only imagine. Well I suppose after tonight, I might share that same horrible, horrible experience." Rich laughed, "Bottoms up?"

"Bottoms up," I replied with an affirmative. Half way through the mug, I became just as intoxicated as everyone else.

Hmm…guess I have a low alcohol tolerance.

I must've been quite a sight. There I was, slumped against the bar and having a conversation with the attractive looking Rich. The half drained mug was still clutched in my hand.

"Yer know what Richie me boy?" I slurred, pointing a finger in his direction. He looked amused, "What?" I laughed, "Wouldn't you like to know?" He shrugged and answered an affirmative.

"You…are so fucking shexy," I slurred. He blushed and I continued, "NO! Really. You…are shexy." I giggled, "Shexy… haha, now there's a funny word. Shexy."

"SHEXY!" I exclaimed then slumped back on the counter with a mindless giggle.

"Er…Boy? I think you've had enough," he told me with concern as he tried to pry my grip away from the handle of the mug.

"NO!" I exclaimed, "You give me more understand? More!" I downed the remaining contents and thrust it in his direction. He looked at me uncertainly.

"Dammit, wha' you waitin' for? Fill! Fill!"

"Boy? Boy is that you?" came a voice from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and laughed, "'Ey! It's Racetrack!"

The Italian frowned, "Boy, you drunk?"

I tried to look innocent and sober, "Me? Drunk? NEVAH!" I collapsed on the counter in peals of laughter.

"Her room is upstairs, the last room on the left," Rich told him. I struggled up, "No! Nooooo. Don't make me go back. I don't wanna go back." Racetrack managed to pull me off the barstool and threw my arm over his shoulders so that he would be able to support me up the stairs.

"C'mon Boy," he told me, voice laced with concern, "best be gettin' you'se ta' bed now."

"I don't wanna go to bed," I replied in a whiny voice. I could feel him grin.

"You'se gonna hafta if you still wan' Medda payin' yer," he told me. After struggling up the stairs, he managed to drag me to the end of the hallway and propped me up against the wall.

"Boy, whea's da key?" he asked, frowning at the locked door. I giggled, "In my pocket." I fished it out and showed it to him, "Seeeeee?"

He snatched it away and I was about to let out a wail when he quickly shoved me inside as to not disturb anybody in the hallway. He directed me to the bed and set me down, panting.

"Do me a favor next time you'se wanna drink Boy. Don't," he muttered and stood up to leave. I let out a whimper and he turned to look at me, "What?"

"Please…stay with me? I'm afraid of that scary girl… she's going to come back again," I cried. He raised an eyebrow in my direction and a smile tugged on his oh so sexy lips, "scary goil?"

I looked at him tearfully, "Pweeeease?" He sighed and ran a hand through his hair then looked back at me, "Fine. But only until you fall asleep okay?"

I nodded eagerly, "Okay, okay." Then I shifted to make room on the bed for him. He looked at me hesitantly.

"Boy…you'se drunk."

"I'm not drunk!"

"Yes, you are."

"Please?"

With another sigh of defeat he settled down on the bed and I curled up against him in content.

"Thank you…" and then my world went black.

==========

End of Chapter 8

Sapphy: Now now, we don't want them cops to be on to us now would we?  
Brownie/Melody: OMG… Pulitzer rape? Weasel rape? That's… just… so… horribly… wrong!  
erisnymph: I know… and here's another update! Yaaay! Took a long time though… OO I'm not sure I'm digging what I'm doing to Mush either… Hmm… In any case, critique would be more than welcome. If I don't improve, shameless self-insertions would turn into mary-sues! Oh the horror! In any case, I hope you settled your desire to see Conlon and Racetrack to some degree… I think? And mucho thankies for the review  
ember: And there's another update. Dance for meeeee!  
shamrock rocker: And I shall write more! Bwahahahahaha! Thanks for the review!  
Pencil3: Erm… actually I'm not American. Ahaha… sweatdrop And thanks for the review on my KA fic…which reminded me that I had this chapter to finish up… dies  
SS 3EVR: Thanks! And here's your update.  
Arroz: I present… the rest of the story! Or at least, the next chapter of it. Thanks for the review!  
Martini: Thanks and I will!  
erisnymph: Heeeey. I got another review from you! Awesome! And the problem was rather a combination of both… I lost my files because I was moving… TT Then my dad's friend reformatted my computer… then I lost the disk the chapter was burned on… and then there was school… but yes, I know, I'm only making excuses. Ahahaha… er.. yeah.  
Chronicles Bailey: thanks for the review!  
lena-jade: Now there's an over exaggeration. I'm sure there are quite a few mistakes in the fic. ;; My English teacher was always on my case with grammar. But thanks for the review!  
TheAngryPrincess13: Racetrack is hotter!

Ow…hand cramp.


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